


Phoenix Down

by glowsdicks



Category: Final Fantasy XI, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BUT IT DOES HAPPEN, Drunk Sex, Electricity, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, OC and weird crossovers, Oral Sex, Revenge, Self-Harm, Suicide, Use of blood for magic, and they're very happy together god dammit, except phoenix downs are involved, i swear it only sounds bad in the tags, promptis happens later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 106,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowsdicks/pseuds/glowsdicks
Summary: As Insomnia burns and Prince Noctis begins his ascension as the Chosen King, a strange duo appears in Cauthess to offer a hand of help. Sie Camisado, an odd young woman with a horn jutting from her forehead, claims to be the last known Summoner - a divine heretic utilizing the power of gods for magic - walking a similar path to the Prince and his retinue. At her side is Lehko Habhoka, her dreamy-eyed retainer always wearing a knitted cap. Upon doing a little Moogling, the Chocobros discover that their two new companions are more than what they seem.





	1. Curing Headaches with Bullets

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so this is sort of a weird idea I had while very, very high, and very, very nostalgic for Final Fantasy XI and its lore. The crossovers are rather screwy, but I've taken elements from both FFXI, FFXV, and a teensie bit from FFXIV to screw around with the game's canon. This is both a fix-it and what-the-absolute-fuck story written for both myself and my little brother.
> 
> Except the dirty parts. Those are a gift from me to me.

It would seem Titan had a lot to say, but Noctis not enough skull to fit him in.

The agony mounted the closer they got to the Disc. The migraines were becoming more and more common, and the pain more debilitating. How was he supposed to commune with Titan if he died of pain-induced shock before he got there?

It was so _unfair_. The greater his responsibility became, the more he had to lean on Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto to get a damned thing done. The weight of their judgment could’ve knocked him to the floor, and the frustration merely festered the more they had to stop.

He hated admitting it, but he was grateful that Ardyn paid for their night in the caravan. They made it to the Coernix Station with plenty of light to make it the rest of the way to the Disc, but he had to entreat them they stop. The pain was such that he was getting dizzy. He was too afraid to try to warp strike, fearing his aim would be so hindered that he’d seriously injure himself.

His friends seemed to understand. When they witnessed his nose bleeding from one particularly bad wave of pain, Gladio was the one to insist they wait as long as Noct needed to recover. It was a kind expression, but they all knew the pain would only intensify the longer they dawdled.

Nyx Ulric once said that the best way to cure a headache was a potion mixed with a stiff drink held to the roof of one’s mouth for as long as they could manage, swallow, and do it again. He insisted that, regardless of  _ how,  _ there’d be relief eventually.

Which was why he had tears in his eyes from the potent vodka-and-potion cocktail held in his mouth. He didn’t often drink, and when he did, it was seldom liquor. He barely had the taste for the stuff to be able to hold it in his mouth longer than a few seconds. Worse still; the pain wasn’t getting any better, and the alcohol was contributing to the dizziness he already suffered from.

“I was once so sick with the stomach flu that I held a phoenix down in my teeth and shot myself,” remarked a strange, shockingly-not-Ardyn voice from just across from him.

Noctis started, tilting his head up from between his knees to see a woman standing a little way away; [dressed in half-armor, both Insomnian black and Tenebraean white; Altissian silver and aquamarine, and Niflheim gold.](https://img2.finalfantasyxiv.com/accimg2/32/50/3250a1c5f0fa38f72a26205d8dcc1e5ffde093ec.jpg) Each respective style melded together in a skin-tight suit of black, overlaid with white and black pauldrons, white sleeves trimmed in gold, and gloves trimmed in gold and luminescent aquamarine. She wore high boots with parapet-shaped silver panes to protect her toes, and a long half-skirt of strips of black metal and gold decoration, with dangling, glowing gems hanging from each free-hanging pleat.

Perhaps a little much to document in his aching brain, but it was a unique style; partway a robe, and partway armor. 

His eyes flicked up to her face. Sly, and clever in a way that reminded him of a less-slimy Ardyn - and beautiful, too. Like she could outwit a fox out of his fur. Striking copper eyes.

A hook sword hung from her hip; polished to mirror-clear, with its edge the color of obsidian. It looked delicate, as its length had been carved so deeply that the backdrop for the pattern had fallen away, leaving it hollow. An aquamarine glinted from its pommel, and an intricate gold cage covered its length, as its strange shape didn’t take well to a proper scabbard. An elaborately-crafted armored book hung from a clip on her opposite hip. The handle of a knife peeked at her from one of the spaces between pleats on her half-robe  _ thing. _ A pistol sat on the outside of her thigh, bound by a silver clip and a blue strap.

And she had a horn strapped to her head. A horn. Jutting like a spiracorn, on a broad leather headband with pretty embroidery. The horn itself was a long, thick spine that looked black at first glance, but glowed deep, deep crimson in direct light.

She was wearing a gemstone horn on her head.

He was staring. Staring, with a very stupid look on his pained face. He felt another stream of blood trickle from his nose, landing in the heap of tissues Prompto had thoughtfully stuffed in his hand as he went to be miserable  _ outdoors  _ instead of in. It was the most Ignis could convince him to do. He’d spent most of the day in bed, and seemed fit to stay there until well into the night.

“Ah…  _ what?”  _ he breathed, scrunching his nose at her and her macabre anecdote. “Does that work? And… who are you?”

She flashed him a foxish, cheeky grin; copper eyes glimmering in the late-afternoon light. “It might do, but I don’t remember much. Vicious flu, that; brain went and forgot it all for me, bless its heart. Anyhow, you can call me Sie. Sie Camisado.”

Noctis made an ungainly sound as he held the tissues to his nose and tilted his head back, wincing at the sun burning through his eyelids. “Noctis,” he replied in kind, but kept the remainder of his name close to the vest. With the attack on Insomnia and loss of his father, he was the last remaining heir to the Lucian throne. Niflheim especially could want to snatch him up and take him and the nation prisoner, as they had done with Tenebrae. If they didn’t assassinate him altogether, which was likely.

Sie was quiet for a long moment, eyeing him up and down. Every few moments, he would flinch and swallow a moan. The waves of Titan-induced pain were beginning to ride his very heartbeat; pummeling everything above his neck. It was getting scary. How was he supposed to make it to the Disc if Titan wouldn’t  _ stop? _

“The Archaean, yeah?”

At first, Sie’s words didn’t register over the pain. When they did, he stilled and pierced her with an ice-blue stare beneath a dark, messy fringe. “The Archaean?” he played dumb.

Noctis flinched away when Sie began a slow pace toward him; walking in an arc, with her boots loudly crunching on the ground below. She had her hands up to show she meant no harm as she closed the distance between herself and the Prince. “I hear him, too. Titan. It’s like there’s a bubble made of magma getting bigger and bigger inside your head, right? Until it feels like your brain is gonna ooze out your ears?”

Noctis looked at her like she was some kind of witch. A witch that knew how he felt, and that seemed fit to offer him advice. She was pretty, if cagey, and had a good, empathetic intent in her posture. “Uh… yeah, actually. That’s exactly how it feels,” he murmured, nasally from the tissues. Any other time, and he’d be embarrassed. Pain had a funny way of making him forget himself. “How can you hear him, I thought…?”

Sie smiled, but without the mockery of Ardyn. The strange snake had offered his condolences, but every word was so saccharine it made his teeth hurt. “I know a thing or two about how this world of ours works. King meets Oracle. Covenants. Headaches. The world turns. The crystal sparkles.”

The odd woman reached out with a hand covered by a matte, skin-tight glove adorned with an aquamarine crest in a bed of gold on the back. Noctis was too curious to move away as she set her gentle fingers on his forehead.  _ “Use your inside voice, you hulking cunt,”  _ she whispered like a prayer.

Noctis was about to ask what the  _ fuck  _ she was talking about… until the pain stopped. A cool, soothing breath of magic curled inside of his mind and blew away the agony and the constant noise of the Archaean’s growling. It all stopped. He even felt his nosebleed trickle to a halt.

Sie retracted her hand and wiggled her fingers with a glitter of magic. “Bit of an odd spell, but magic is more about intent than it is poetry.”

“You… you made him stop,” Noct gasped, reaching up and cradling the side of his head, as if searching for whatever it was that had blown away the pain. He still  _ felt  _ like himself, but the woman’s magic had been so potent that he had a hard time believing it hadn’t manifested more. The healing had been more potent than any hi-elixir he’d ever used.

“Sie Pavor Nocturnus Camisado, wandering Summoner, at your service,” she chimed, beaming with white teeth and tapping the horn jutting from her head. She dipped into a sloppy bow, sending her hair flying in her face. “I specialize in Astrals and Terrestrial Avatars. I also specialize in dancing, glassblowing, singing, and making handsome princes stare at me like I’m stuffing rocks in my nose.”

It was true. He  _ was  _ looking at her like she was shoving rocks in her nose in the middle of speaking; a little slack-jawed, glassy-eyed, and obviously wondering if he wasn’t just delusional from his brain melting. “Summoner…? Terrestrial Avatars? ... _ What? _ ” he moaned at her. She may have taken away Titan’s headache, but she was giving him a fresh one to replace it.

“Terrestrial Avatars!”  _ Oh Six, she even gesticulated like Ardyn.  _ “Former Astrals that were cast down by Bahamut! I, a Summoner, am gifted with the power to commune with and draw upon the powers of said Avatars, and have the capacity to commune with the present Astrals in power. I mostly go around meeting them and writing down stories they have to tell. Summoners like me are the reason you have much knowledge of the Astrals and their histories. I am here because the Archaean has risen from his otherwise-stable nap, and am here to ask what his damage is. I can follow the same mystical wavelength you can,” she explained with many charismatic waves of her hands and spritely bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Noctis had been cleaning his face as she spoke, and finally did away with the last of the pinkish stains on his upper lip before he tossed the tissues in a nearby garbage bin. Even if she was completely crackers, her magic had not only silenced Titan, but rejuvenated him. He felt as good as he’d been before the Archaean made himself manifest at all.

She took the new glitter in his eyes as a sign her healing had done its job. “It’s quite useful I ran into you. You seem to be the reason Titan is squirming beneath his rock. Overseeing your upcoming communion and battle with him will make for good documenting,” Sie continued, and patted the metal-bound book hanging from her hip. Noctis gave it a look, and saw an  _ armored feather quill  _ slotted in a special clip running along its spine.

“Are you real?” the Prince asked frankly, looking her over again and again. He couldn’t guess her nationality, which made him uneasy, regardless of her charisma. “I’ve never heard of Summoners before, or  _ anything  _ you talked about. And what’s with the horn?” He tapped the spot on his forehead where the horn would be resting if he were wearing it.

Sie blinked at him, face awash with surprise. “You’ve never heard of a Summoner? Really?”

Noctis shook his head, humming a brief  _ mmh-mm.  _ “What, is it a Niflheim thing? Or… where are you  _ from?”  _ He scrunched his mostly-hidden forehead at her. 

“I suppose things have changed since I was last around,” she sighed, scrubbing at her cheek and shaking her head. “Well, there isn’t much to do about it now. And-” she paused, pointing at her horn, “-this is for channeling. Helps to catch the whispers of the Astrals without letting them get too jumbled and frenetic.”

“Like adjusting the antennae on one of those old radios?” he asked, voice kicking up a little for being able to catch some of her meaning. 

She grinned at him, nodding animatedly. “Exactly! Stops the headaches, too. You should look into crafting yourself something like it, if you’re on your way toward collecting the covenants of the Astrals. That’s what you’re doing, right? Titan wouldn’t be whispering sweet nothings in your ear if you weren’t.”

Noctis rubbed the nape of his neck and nodded. “Ah, yeah. You know about all that? Anything helpful you could tell me about it all?”

“First Astral, hm? Should’ve chosen Ramuh first,” Sie lamented, tapping her chin. “Well, expect the Archaean to want to test your worth. He’ll be looking for a fight, so expect to be knocked around a bit before the magic happens. Very handsy fellow, Titan. And, he’ll likely fight dirty. I’ll bet you gil to donuts he’ll try to abuse your mental link to him to trip you up. Get in your head and bring back the pain. If I wanted a fight over quickly, that’s what  _ I’d  _ do.”

_ This girl is actually helpful,  _ Noctis thought as he listened along. He had no reason to trust her, but her advice sounded solid. It made sense, even for someone who hadn’t seen Titan before. He had no reason to  _ not  _ take her suggestions to heart, and nodded appreciatively. “That’s… actually really helpful,” he confessed. “Are you really going to follow us there? It’ll be pretty dangerous, if what you’re saying is true.”

Sie bobbed her head once and smiled. “Like I said; I’d like to at least hang out on the sidelines to see things happen. Spy a bit. Laugh when you make the granite bastard fall on his ass.”

“You’ve actually met him?”

“A couple times, yes,” she answered easily. “I much prefer other company, but a job’s a job. The horn’s the horn. Should’ve checked the fine print before I signed on, but there’s no hope for it now. When I die, all you’ll see of my grave is the horn poking out of the dirt,” she chuckled, grinning at her own expense.

He couldn’t help but compare her to  _ that Ardyn guy,  _ and wish he could swap him out for her. He barely knew her, but already liked her company. She made him want to laugh, and took away the pain. Definitely Crownsguard material.

Noctis’s eyes trailed to her hair. It was the same crimson-black as the horn, and was partly woven back in plaits that wrapped around the strap holding the horn in place, further securing it. The rest of her hair was tied up in a high tail, held with a red band with a phoenix down pinned to it. 

The Prince raised an eyebrow. “Do you dye it that color?”

Sie smirked, shaking her head. “Too many years with a rock strapped to my forehead. Hair got confused and started trying to match it.”

Noctis cocked an eyebrow, forgetting himself. “Uh huh. So,  _ all  _ of your hair is that color?” he asked incredulously.

Sie let out a light, lyrical laugh. “Now, now! What sort of prince goes around asking a woman if the carpet matches the drapes?”

Noctis blanched, stiffening slightly. “Ah… Sorry,” he muttered, looking pointedly away from her.

“I’m only teasing,” Sie reassured him, delicately punching him in the shoulder. “I wax.”

When she winked at him, he turned scarlet. She already felt like a friend to the group, even if she was teasing him. At least she was  _ genuinely  _ nice, and charismatic. Once more, he thought back to their original fuschia remora. More like a lamprey, Noctis thought. All teeth, like his smiles.  _ Creepy. _

“ _ Well,”  _ Sie huffed a breath, rocking from toe to heel and hooking her thumbs into the light blue belts crisscrossing her hips. They were embellished with silver crosses that caught the sun and twinkled at him. “Ah! Yes!”

Sie reached for a pouch hidden inside of a large white-and-blue ornament pinned to her left hip, sitting above the several pleats of the odd skirt-type- _ thing  _ obscuring her left leg, hung with fist-sized, glowing jewels. It looked a little like the bars of a portcullis strapped to her waist. Behind the largest ornament was where she’d stashed her phone, which she waggled at him. “Let me give you my number. Let me know when you and your merry band of rebels are ready to go meet the Archaean, so I’m not forced to stay tangled up in your hair.”

The teardrop-shaped, glowing stone set in the middle of her chest caught the light and flashed at him, too. It served as the bottom tine to a silver cross that extended up into the hollow of her throat. Next to it was a silver-blue brooch bearing an insignia he didn’t recognize. 

The last thing he noticed before she looked at him expectantly was the shape of her breasts, held securely by the snug matte fabric of the body suit covering her from foot to neck, running beneath all of her other ornaments and accoutrements. It looked a little like the bulletproof fabric worn by the Kingsglaive.

She looked at him knowingly when he started and swiftly forced his eyes to her phone, which she held proffered. All he had to do was open a particular setting on his own phone and hold it close to hers to receive her contact information. A brief vibration signalled the exchange had gone through.

Sie tucked her phone away. “Feel free to contact me for anything else. I spend most of my time traveling and dying of boredom, so I’m often able to reply. Does that sound desperate? It sounded desperate to me.”

At that, Noctis chuffed a little laugh. Just to be certain, he looked at the new contact information. The area code was unfamiliar to him, but her picture was a nice one, featuring a shot of her and another man grinning at Galdin Quay. The man beside her bore odd stripes on his face - two on either cheek, pointing inward. They looked about the same golden-tan as his floppy, wavy hair, which obscured part of his face and only revealed one dreamy eye and half of a lazy smile.

Her shadow interrupted his study of the picture. Sie had rolled up onto the tips of her toes and leaned forward to see what he was looking at.

“Ah!” she gasped, grinning warmly at him and pointing at the man in the picture. “My retainer, Lehko. He’s my usual traveling companion, but sometimes strays from me. He’s more cat than person, really; best to let him do as he does, and hope he manages to come to my rescue at the exact right time. Summoning is dangerous work, you know.”

“A retainer?” Noctis spoke, mostly to himself. “Like, a royal retainer?”

“Well,” she shrugged humbly, rolling her eyes away. “He is quite a regal feline, if ever there was one.”

His face fell into a befuddled, annoyed frown. “That isn’t much of an answer.”

“You asked if he was royal.”

“I asked if  _ you  _ were royal.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Uh huh.”

They locked eyes - copper against ice - and glared stubbornly.

She broke down first. “My personal history was wiped out once I became myself,” she drawled, visibly annoyed he was able to beat her in a staring contest. “ _ I  _ am not royal. Whether I was  _ before  _ is irrelevant.”

“Yes it is.” Deadpan. Completely. Like a child dragging his heels at the supermarket. He folded his arms defiantly over his chest.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“ _ No.”  _

Noctis clucked his tongue with a little  _ tsk.  _ “What’s the big deal? Are you on the run or something?”

She hesitated, and that was all the answer he needed. Noctis’s eyes widened a fraction. “Seriously?”

It was her turn to let out a little  _ tsk.  _ “Maybe  _ a little.  _ Suffice it to say that I would rather stay as low-profile as possible while I shadow you.”

“Your profile is pretty big with that horn on your head,” Noctis clucked, his eyes narrowing, and initial trust trickling away the more she dodged his questions. “Why should I let you follow us around if you’re some kind of fugitive? And what’s keeping me from helping get you turned in?”

His hand fell to his side. Fingers twitched. Her eyes were keen enough to note the faint sparkle of blue magic; shimmering and waiting for the command to manifest fully.

She swallowed thickly. Pain wasn’t a fun thing. She could endure it, but lying, cheating, and stealing her way away from it was her usual preference. Dignity was something she gave up a long time ago.

“Look,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, startling, palming her face, and then letting out an exasperated sigh. She reached into the same hidden space by her hip and produced a small glasses case. Inside were a pair of round, gold spectacles - small - that sat cutely on her nose. “You’re much prettier when I can actually remember to put my glasses on.  _ Anyway,  _ you and I are in the same boat, kid, and we’ve got the same problem. I’ve done a few things in Niflheim territory. Naughty things.”

Noctis rocked back on his heels. “What  _ naughty things  _ were those?”

“ _ What  _ did we just walk in on?”

Noctis nearly jumped on his skin, while Sie calmly twisted at the waist to see Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto approaching them in a cluster, with all eyes narrowing on her. They’d had enough of weird strangers harassing Noct and following them around. With how animatedly they’d been talking, they all saw her as nothing but Ardyn with an attractively-sized bosom. 

Gladiolus was the first to cut in, naturally. “Who are you?” he asked, putting himself between her and Noctis while folding his arms over his chest. 

“Sie Pavor Nocturnus Camisado, at your service,” she supplied comfortably, flicking a lax little salute at him. “Summoner and translator of the Astrals. I was just introducing myself to Prince Noctis.”

As reluctant as he was to really go out on a limb for another stranger, Noctis touched Gladio’s shoulder and bade him shuffle over. “She’s alright. She was able to cure my headaches, and she’s a fugitive from the Nifs, like us.”

“Really?” Prompto perked up, lovely eyes shining with intrigue. Cute, plucky thing, he was.

Sie smiled at him, flashing teeth and rounding her cheekbones. “Yep. I was a fugitive from the Nifs before it was in style, though.”

“And  _ why  _ are you a fugitive?” Ignis asked, looking her over with a deep frown of mistrust. 

Sie heaved a heavy, ugly sigh. “I come. I help. I get interrogated… Ah, well. It was the summer following my seventeenth birthday. I was a squatter in Niflheim at the time - not a citizen, but still living in the region - when the regime got particularly nasty. Turning on their own people. Committing ghastly atrocities I’d rather not detail. So, hormonal and defiant, I set to work staging _unfortunate accidents_ at every government and imperial complex I could get my grubby little paws on. Freed prisoners. Destroyed barracks and bunkers. Caused the largest number of airship and grounds vessel failures in the empire’s history.  Sabotaged border checks. Unscrewed the lights around the palace so daemons could sneak in. You know. The usual teenage shenanigans.”

“Wait! I remember that!” Gladiolus interrupted, taking a half-step forward and leaning toward her; searching her face. “Shit!  _ You’re  _ the Niflheim Arsonist?!”

“Is that what they call me?” she asked, batting her eyes. “ _ Mmh…  _ I knew I should’ve absconded to somewhere with television. I would’ve liked to see those news reports.”

“That was you? No way! I remember reading about that!” Prompto gasped, eyes the size of saucers. “I can’t believe that you did that when you were so young! Did you have help?”

_ “That,”  _ she stopped him, holding up a finger, “is confidential.”

Ignis intervened next. “And what exactly are you planning now? Is that the greater reason you’ve approached us?” he asked, cutting to the chase and pinning her in place with a sharp-eyed stare. “We have no interest in getting involved in guerilla warfare with the forces of Niflheim, if that’s what you’re trying to recruit Noctis into.”

Sie waved it off, shaking her head emphatically. “I am merely a Summoner. I, too, am looking to commune with the Astrals. They have all begun stirring because of Prince Noctis, and our paths have finally crossed. I am a student, and a historian. I only want to listen, and help, if I can. I was just explaining to His Highness that the Archaean may attempt to abuse the connection between them to make him stumble.”

The four of them exchanged looks, which Sie comfortably watched and prepared herself to take her leave. “I already exchanged numbers with Prince Noctis. I’ll get out of your hair and leave you to it. I won’t be far.”

“Good,” Noctis nodded resolutely. In his eyes flashed a promise. She’d convinced them.

At least  _ this  _ mysterious stranger had genuine charm.

The four of them took their seats on the folding chairs outside of the rented caravan. They’d planned to get busy with lunch, but introductions with  _ this Sie chick  _ called for a serious discussion between the four of them. 

“You trust her, Noct?” Ignis asked, picking at the seams on the arm of his chair. 

Noctis took a moment to give the question more serious thought. “She seems better to have around than Ardyn,” he muttered, rubbing his temple and closing his eyes. 

“If she’s the Niflheim Arsonist, then she’s trustworthy enough for me,” Gladio threw in his two gil.

“At least for this part,” Prompto agreed, albeit a little more cautiously. “I mean, if we’re gonna have to fight Titan, wouldn’t it be better if we had an extra body watching our backs?”

“Presuming she doesn’t have further business with the Archaean that could hamper us,” Ignis sighed. “I don’t like this pattern of strangers coming out of nowhere. It all feels very dangerous to me, Noct.”

“I know,” Noct sighed, hanging his head between his knees and staring at his boots. “Even if we say no, she’s still gonna go to the Disc with us. If she means that she has to see Titan, too, then our answer isn’t going to do more than decide how we behave together, right?”

“A wise observation,” Ignis praised, impressed. 

“You’re right,” Gladio agreed soberly. “We can part ways when this is over.”

“At least give it until tomorrow,” Prompto suggested, poising his elbows on his knees. “I mean, she’s gonna be hanging around, right? Might as well mingle and see if she lets anything slip. If Ardyn is gonna be hanging around, there’s no reason why we can’t let her hang around, too.”

“Alright,” Noctis affirmed his decision and reached for his phone.

>hey. you can join us for dinner if you want

He sent the text, thinking it simple and effective. He turned his phone over and over in his hand, finding a sliver of solace in the cool, smooth texture brushing against his fingertips.

The four of them jumped when Noctis’s phone chimed.

>cool. i’ll bring beer. :)

Noctis smirked. “She says she’ll bring beer.”

“I’ll marry her tonight,” Gladio blurted, lighting up.

The lot of them chuckled as Noctis wrote his reply:

>gladio says he’ll marry you lol

He didn’t read that one aloud, but grinned all the same.

A few minutes passed before his phone chimed again:

>the big guy, right? tell him i will if he can keep up with me and a bottle of moonshine.

Noctis smiled all the more, feeling a warm curl in his gut. He liked her, even if she was shady. She seemed genuine, even when she was trying to lie, and was able to take the pain away. 

>i’ll marry you if you can keep the headaches away 

He pressed send before he really thought about it. His face bloomed red the moment he saw it appear in the chat field.  _ Shit. _

_ Ding! _

He almost didn’t want to look.

>i suppose an outlaw can flout the polygamy laws <3

He caught himself chuckling.

>i could just repeal that one lol

>can you repeal the one about speed limits? my bike would thank you.

Noctis lifted his eyebrows:

>your bike?

He was left hanging for a little over five minutes - which had him shifting in his seat the entire time - before his phone chimed. 

The notification for the next text only alerted him of an incoming picture, and not simple text. He was almost too antsy to look. What kind of bike was it? He scolded himself for not looking, but it was the same kind of excitable apprehension he had when a girl texted him a selfie. 

_ “Dude,”  _ Noct murmured reverently as he looked at the photo.

An [Alicorn XI](http://cdn.newsapi.com.au/image/v1/d159bbabc8c9f9b455bf10ed37091241), matte black, with red spokes, with an actual  _ horn  _ jutting from a modified space beneath the windshield. The decal of a royal-looking cat was printed in glitter on the side; looking like it was lazing about, hanging from a crescent moon. Its gold eyes were enormous and soul-piercing. It had a tiny silver crown on its head between its two unnaturally long, thin ears, and had a little red cape slung from its narrow shoulders - far too thin for its huge head. Weird.

Nevertheless, his slack-jawed stare at his phone drew Prompto over. “What’s up, buddy? She send you nu-  _ Dude.  _ Is that  _ hers?” _

Noctis nodded like a bobblehead. “I think it’s…”

He nearly dropped his phone as it chimed again:

>it’s the circuit version. street models are for pussies ;)

“You’d better let her come hang out!” Prompto commanded from where he stood above Noct, his eyes not leaving the photo of such a glorious, glorious bike. “And tell her I want to ride!”

Noctis rolled his eyes:

>prom looks like he’ll cry if he doesn’t get to ride

_ Chime! _

>only if he can stomach the g-forces. 

“I so can! I  _ so  _ can!” Prompto gave up any illusions of privacy as he mouthbreathed at the phone. “I’ve wanted to ride on an Alicorn XI since it was released! Oh  _ please  _ let me ride!”

“A what?” Ignis scoffed, further adding to the crowded space around Noct as he leaned over him from behind. “Ah. A motorbike.”

“The fastest in the world!” Prompto whined at Ignis, almost offended that Ignis didn’t know about what would now become his newest fixation.  _ By the Six,  _ he wanted to ride on that bike. “The manufacturer is legally obligated to provide lessons on how to ride it to every potential buyer. It reaches top speeds of 200MPH!”

“Bullshit,” Gladio scoffed, joining in the cluster around the phone. “Nobody but the Crown has money to afford -  _ whoa.” _

“I don’t like it,” Ignis interrupted, all the more befuddled than before. “First, she refuses to give away the people that assisted in her deeds in Niflheim. Now, she’s showing us an extremely valuable motorbike that only professional circuit riders and the Crown could possibly afford. What is she doing that has her in that sort of money?”

“That’s a good point…” Noct hummed, matching Ignis’s stare and sucking on his teeth. He slumped back, leaning against the back of his chair. “I don’t know. She has me scattered all over the place. At least with that Ardyn guy, we all agree he’s trouble.”

“She probably is, too,” Gladio snorted, shrugging it off. “But she’s cuter than Ardyn.”

“Do you think she’s single?” Ignis wondered.

“Gonna have to beat me in an arm wrestling match, Iggy,” Gladio interrupted, giving Prompto a light shove as he broke from the pack to give Noctis air. “Probably shouldn’t be thinking on that sort of thing, though. If I wanted something out of Noct, I’d be using my wiles, too.”

Noctis wrinkled his nose. “Your wiles aren’t very… wily, though.”

Ignis adjusted his glasses with a disgruntled huff. “I merely meant to suggest that her money could come from the person in her profile picture,” he explained, pointing one gloved finger toward the small profile picture in the top corner of the chat box. It was hard to make out details with it so small, but the guy in it was most definitely a guy, and they were floating awfully close together in that selfie.

“She says that guy is some kind of retainer,” Noctis answered. “That they travel together most of the time.”

“What kind of money does she have in order to afford the salary of a retainer?” Ignis mused, all the more suspicious. “I’ve no idea where this woman comes from, but it would only take looking at our salaries to know that no civilian could comfortably afford a bike like an Alicorn XI  _ and  _ the salary of a retainer without being at least a little well-known for their material wealth. Have you Moogled her name?”

Noctis hummed and shook his head. “Probably should’ve done that already…” he muttered, thumbing open the search engine and entering  _ Sie Pavor Nocturnus Camisado  _ into the search field.

He blinked, surprised. “She has a Chocogram.”

“Really?!” Prompto’s phone was in his hand in an instant. Without looking away from Noct’s, he typed her name into his Chocogram search field. “Oh, wow! Look at all these pictures!”

The four of them were on their phones, then; trawling through the woman’s social media the way the Guard had trawled through Prompto’s before he was permitted to become a formal member of Noct’s retinue. 

“Hey! That’s Cindy and Cid at Takka’s!” 

The quiet sound of chocobos trilling, laughter, and excited yelping filtered from Ignis’s phone. “It would seem she can balance on the back of a running chocobo,  _ standing  _ on its saddle… No-” a sharp screech interrupted him. “-Well, not for long, it seems.”

Prompto’s phone was the next to play a video. He was watching a clip of her standing at the very edge of a street light on the highway. The halo of light was enough to keep away lesser daemons, like imps, but little more than that. He guessed Lehko was the one holding the camera, because Sie was busy smacking golf balls off a tee, sending them rocketing into the side of an iron giant’s head.

“Think it’ll notice?” Lehko’s voice was smooth; buttery and charming. His brogue was almost Tenebraean. “That’s the third ball, for you witnesses at home.”

Sie was taking a break between swings to take a long, thorough drink from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. She held up a finger to the camera, fished a lighter from her pocket, held it before her face, and  _ ignited a belch so loud Prompto had to turn the volume down. _

The last seconds of the video were of the two of them yelping, and the video ending after the third chain, of  _ “Shitfuck!”  _ as the two were running.

Noctis nearly blew pink-ribboned snot out of his nose, having been watching along once Prompto shared his screen with them. “Wow. Just… wow.”

The next picture was a blurry selfie of the two of them booking it away from the giant, presumably toward wherever she’d parked the bike. Even with the giant running after them, they were grinning like drunk idiots. Ignis frowned at the image. “I am certainly glad we weren’t on the roadway for that,” he sighed.

“Hey, wait a sec,” Gladio interrupted. His finger was flicking upward on his phone, allowing him to rapidly descend through Sie’s Chocogram history, down toward the very bottom. “...Holy shit.  _ Here’s  _ why she doesn’t want to get caught! She has videos up of her business in Niflheim!” He opened one of them and turned up the volume, walking over to show his phone to the rest of them.

The video started in a dark city wreathed in snow…

Gralea.

The video was shaky at first, but there was no mistaking the Imperial Palace in the distance behind her, all lit up and shining even through the fat flakes of snow beginning to fall in dense clumps from the sky. She was standing on top of a building beyond it, with the gates of the palace over her shoulder.

_ “Hello, Niflheim!”  _ she said with an animated wave into the camera. “It is currently New Years Eve, and the Emperor is throwing the most magnificent shindig just behind me. If you look - Lehko, zoom in. If you look closely, you can see the movers and shakers of Niflheim all arriving, no doubt eager for the big countdown to another year of a tyrannical regime. I’m sure they have a cake of Insomnia they can’t wait to tuck into. You know, since they can’t get the wall down any other way, you know what I mean?”

She winked into the camera, which trembled slightly. Lehko was chuckling. “And what are we doing here?” he asked, urging her along through his stunted snickering. 

“I’m glad you asked!” she said, bouncing enthusiastically, like an over-caffeinated news anchor. “Now, in times past, Tenebrae would celebrate the stroke of midnight with a falling moon above the royal palace. The moon strikes the palace; bursts with magical sparkles and glitter. Very pretty. Wasn’t it pretty, Lehko?”

“Enchanting.”

“Lehko and I noticed that you, Niflheim, lack your own New Years tradition. So, out of the goodness of our puckish little hearts, Lehko and I have arranged a bit of a… surprise. It’s about thirty seconds until our surprise is unveiled and, I’ll supply for those watching on Chocogram,  _ this  _ is a lifestream. To you security officers in the Imperial palace, we say…”

“...Best of luck. Twenty seconds.”

The camera shifted. Lehko came into frame, holding the shot in selfie-mode, but poising it so the video showed the palace over their shoulders. The two of them looked like young lovers about to share their first New Years kiss together; bundled up against the cold. She had the horn on, it seemed, while he was wearing a black knitted cap that smooshed his wheaten hair to his cheeks and forehead. “Ready?”

10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

_ “Happy New Year!”  _ Lehko and Sie sing-songed, beaming brightly as nearly a quarter of the Imperial palace… exploded. Exploded into a ball of fire and  _ fucking glitter, shooting into the air like a fart from Ifrit himself. _

The last few seconds of the video was of Sie winking into the camera, while Lehko merely grinned like he was due for a satisfied nap. “Always good to adopt facets from the nations we’ve shat upon, wouldn’t you say, Lehko?”

“You won’t believe what we have planned for Midsummer,” Lehko replied, his grin turning sinister before the video ended.

Noctis, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis all looked away from the video, and their phones, as if they’d seen enough of Sie’s Chocogram to decide on what they thought of her.

Prompto cut in first, a massive grin nearly splitting his face in two. “That was awesome!”

“I want her autograph,” said Gladio, pocketing his phone and matching Prompto’s grin.

Ignis pursed his lips into a configuration a child-Noctis once likened to a cat’s butt. He only ever did it when he was fighting a smile he knew he shouldn’t show. “This is dangerous, Noct. The more we expose ourselves to the Empire, the more likely they’ll recognize  _ her,  _ and then  _ us.  _ Even if we were not identified immediately, we could be mistaken for accomplices.”

Noctis let out a groan. “I  _ know,  _ but I can’t just get rid of her now. She still has business with Titan. Like we were saying earlier, now is just deciding on how nice we want to be with each other until we can part ways.”

The advisor sighed, nodding reluctantly. He fidgeted, feeling helpless. Things had just gotten even more complicated and dangerous, no matter how useful she’d been for soothing Noct’s pain. 

“If she has connections enough to blow up part of the Emperor’s palace  _ and escape,  _ she probably has connections that can get us through this safely,” Gladio argued. “The shit this gal got up to is crazy. I remember my dad saying that we might get implicated for all she’d been doing. She and that Lehko guy probably have people working behind the scenes to keep them ahead of the Empire. I think we should at least try to talk to her and see if her port is the one we want to weather the storm in.”

“So long as we talk her into letting me on that Alicorn XI!” Prompto beamed.

After a long, pregnant pause, Ignis let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll prepare an extra plate for dinner.”

“Yosh!” Prompto cheered, pumping his fists in the air. 

 


	2. Migraines and Bad Booze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no such thing as a vacation when you've shat all over the enemy and posted it on social media.

Noctis’s phone chimed, drawing him out of his reverie. It was Sie again:

>i’m pulling over at the shops before i meet you guys. your chef friend need anything?

The Prince lifted his head. “Hey, Specs. Need anything for dinner?”

Ignis paused, falling deep into his intense cooking-thoughts, like he was trying to calculate the numbers of matches he’d dropped on the floor or something.

He came out of it like a machine. “Paprika, actually. And I’m not certain if we have enough steaks to comfortably feed us, what with our guest _s,”_ he hissed, wrinkling his nose. Noct could tell he was thinking more of Ardyn than of Sie. “Perhaps it would be better to splurge on dinner in the restaurant next to us.”

Noctis was already typing, though:

>specs says paprika and steak.

_Ding!_

>k. smoked or sweet?

Noctis perked up again. “Iggy, smoked or sweet paprika?”

“I’m shocked you know there is more than one kind,” Ignis remarked with a small laugh. “Smoked.”

>smoked.

A moment passed.

_Ding!_

He received a photo of a shopping basket prominently displaying a humble little packet of two six ounce filets, and one tube of smoked paprika. The brand kept the paprika inside of a tin instead of a glass bottle.

>good?

Noct smiled to himself.

>should be. specs can get picky, though. don’t take it personally if he acts like a snob.

_Ding!_

>i got that vibe. no worries. i wouldn’t like me, either. btw, what kind of beer?

That text came with a rough photo of the chilled drinks section in the store she was in.

“Gladio!” Noct called. “What brand of beer?”

“CBR.”

>cbr

_Ding!_

>try again

Noctis burst into a fit of snorting laughter he hid behind his fist. “Pick a different kind, Gladio.”

“What, are they out?” Gladio asked, leering over at Noct.

>cbr is chocobo piss. tell him to pick a different kind or i’m showing up with champagne and a bouquet of roses for her highness. i’d be doing you a favor.

_Ding!_

>you know what? just give him my number. i need to admonish him directly. who the fuck drinks cbr outside of a frat house? how old is he? he’s too pretty for that kind of swill.

_Ding!_

>fuck it, i’m bringing whiskey. we die like men.

_Ding!_

The next text from her was a picture of her handbasket featuring her steaks, Iggy’s paprika, and no fewer than three bottles of whiskey.

_Ding!_

>fuck titan. assert your dominance by giving yourself the next migraine.

_Ding!_

><3

Noctis was chuckling, his cheeks warming. At the very least, she was entertaining. He was looking forward to dinner, especially since it meant the guys had a chance to get to know her a little and further discuss where they’d go with her from there. Noct liked her enough to trust her through to Titan, but he could see that it would take some convincing for the guys to be fully comfortable with the notion of her being around thereafter.

And, _of course,_ his head began to hurt again. A sharp, piercing agony lanced through his temple, making his right ear ring as the beginnings of Titan’s migraines tried to squirrel their way in despite Sie’s magic.

Over the course of ten minutes, the visions and pain rose with a vengeance. He could smell copper, like the radiant color of her eyes, and found himself unlocking his phone and hovering his thumbs over the keypad in their chat log.

He didn’t want to. He felt weak for doing so, but…

>hey, uh

>sorry if i’m buggin you but my head is hurting again

>bad

There was blood on his phone; a couple of drops on the screen he hastily wiped away and sniffled back. “Hey Specs?” he moaned, wincing. “I need more tissues.”

Ignis wasted no time. He disappeared into the camper and came back with a packet of tissues enough to, at least, suffocate him to death to elude the pain. “Bad again, Noct?”

“ _Mmh…”_ he groaned, white-knuckling his phone and praying the waves would stop.

_Ding!_

She sent him a photo of a box of tampons.

>do that, but with tissues. or i can just get you the heavy flow kind and we can jam them in your sinuses. just make sure you change them out frequently, don’t want you to get toxic shock syndrome in your brain.

Laughing hurt, but her humor was enough to eke out some of his lost mood. He thumb-typed with one hand:

>feels like i already have it

_Ding!_

>brt. eta: 10 mins

Ten minutes too long, he thought, but he felt a sliver of relief at the photo she took of the Alicorn XI. She was straddling it, and the photo was pointed at the center console, her keys already dangling from the ignition. He could see her shadow, posed with her phone carefully angled. She was too hasty to bother with any kind of filter.

As Noct got up to go lie down in the camper, it occurred to him that she had to at least have been half an hour away.

Right. Alicorn XI. Bike that could reach top speeds of 200mph. Woman that offered to marry him if he repealed speed limit laws.

A mere eight minutes (he’d been counting the seconds) passed before he heard the sound of the engine: high pitched and screaming, like a nest of wasps fighting to break the sound barrier. The sound made his head pound, but the person causing it nearly had him crawling to the door. Prompto’s delighted crooning confirmed Sie had returned, likely having left a trail of fire and aroused motorheads in her wake.

The caravan’s squeaky door opened and shut to the sound of light footsteps and a myriad of glowing, jangling things. He cracked open his eyes when he felt her shadow cast over him, augmented by the lightly-glowing gem over her chest. Her hair, and the horn, both looked pitch black without the sun on them.

He sighed wanly and shut his eyes. “That was quick.”

She smiled and shrugged, setting her bag full of groceries on the floor and kneeling down beside him. He’d curled up on the bed in the rear of the caravan, as Ignis had left a pile of groceries on the table in front of the fold-away couch, and the other beds required he climb up. The pain was bad enough that he hadn’t even taken his boots off; merely curled up with wads of tissues jammed in his nose, tasting the copper of his own blood.

Her glove was cool from flying through the air so fast. “We’ll get Titan quiet again,” she promised as the cooling, soothing magic washed through his skin in lazy waves. With his eyes closed, he could see aquamarine lights like those in the gems that so cumbersomely hung from her armor. “If you want, I’ll stay closer at hand. If Titan is going to be this pernicious, it would probably be better for you.”

The pain was ebbing away at a blissful rate. Noctis turned into putty beneath her magic, forgetting any misgivings toward her. “I saw your Chocogram,” he murmured.

She snorted, and he could imagine her puckish grin. “Oh yeah? See my antics, did you?”

“I saw, uh, the New Years in Niflheim one.”

He felt the healing magic taper off, but she kept her hand where it was. “Pretty nice, eh? I hear it took them until the next New Years to repair all the damage.”

“And I saw you hitting golf balls at the iron giant…”

“ _That_ was why I got the Alicorn,” she supplied. “Near-miss, that one. You forget how long their swords are until you’re clipped in the back and bleeding heavily.”

His eyes popped open. “That happened?!”

She nodded. “Nearly severed my spine, but it was a grand time. I’d had so much to drink by then that I only noticed the injury when Lehko complained of blood on his jacket.”

“Crazy…”

“Yep!” she chimed as cheerily as the sound his phone made when she texted him. She got up and placed her steaks in the camper’s fridge, and the paprika with Ignis’s carefully-organized rainbow of ingredients on the table. “Nothing a few dozen potions didn’t fix. That night, I learned that the potion still works if you vomit within fifteen seconds of swallowing it.”

“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”

Sie finished organizing her leg of the dinner preparations, and then ducked into the bathroom to retrieve a damp cloth. “Make sure to eat soon. Digesting your own blood on an empty stomach can lead to some ugly results. There’s a reason blood sausage is _only_ a delicacy.”

He took the cloth from her and began wiping at his face. It was better than dabbing at it with tissues - less irritated skin. “Careful on arguing about that with Iggy,” he said after blowing his nose. “He still thinks we’re close-minded and blind for saying it’s gross.”

“Different strokes for different folks,” she shrugged. “You alright?”

Noctis nodded, finishing cleaning his face. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Sie nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. Get yourself something to eat. Sugar cookies or something. You’d be surprised how much blood you can lose from nosebleeds like those. Best keep your blood sugar up, or you’ll drop like a newborn dhalmel from its mother’s clunge the moment the sun hits you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Noctis replied, wrinkling his nose at her metaphor.

She gave him a little thumbs-up on her way out of the camper, sashaying happily, making the gold-caged jewels hanging from _that thing on her hip_ jingle pleasantly.

She hopped over the steps outside instead of stepped, taking a deep breath as the warm, sweet air brushed against her cheeks. Stepping out from under the awning and into the sun had the light igniting the horn on her forehead with bloody-crimson light. Her hair matched it; swaying languidly in the breeze.

It was a beautiful day for a drive, but she had promised to stay close. She liked her freedom, but she wasn’t heartless enough to leave Noctis high and dry with those migraines. He needed rest. Titan wasn’t a sympathetic deity, and kicking him in the kneecaps a few times was reward enough for hanging back and nursing the Prince’s tender head.

The first she ran into was Ignis, who sat contemplatively at one of the two camping tables just beside the caravan. He was staring at his phone like it owed him money, and then staring at _her._ “You’ve seen to the Prince?” he asked, more guarded than the metal bands and guards on her hip guarded her leg.

She gestured with her arm and snapped her fingers, heralding a small burst of blue motes and sparkles. “All better, until the Archaean grows too frustrated with being ignored. I’ve promised to stay around here in case the pain returns. And I brought you those groceries.”

Ignis nodded slowly - carefully. His eyes were lovely, she thought. That shade of green was rare, and the conformation of his face belonged in a magazine. “Hand me the receipt and I will reimburse you.”

She held up a hand to stop him short. “Nope. You’re cooking. I can pay for my own seasonings if you’re going to the effort of preparing it. If you really must make two steaks and a tin of paprika up to me, keep your towheaded friend from tipping the Alicorn over,” she said, and pointed to an oblivious Prompto who was practically making a photo-documentary of the bike.

Ignis sat up. “Prompto, be careful!” he barked just as Prompto looked like he was about to lie on his back and slide as far beneath the bike as he could get, just to get a shot of its undercarriage.

She chuckled when Prompto’s head shot up and his face turned scarlet at the sight of her. “I, uh…”

Sie stopped him. “Just tag me when you post them.”

“Really?!” Prompto gasped, eyes sparkling.

She winked back at him. “Lehko will jealous I have a photographer in my company. Have fun with your photos. Just don’t try to get to second base with her, or you’re in charge of washing and detailing her.”

“Got it!” Prompto grinned as Ignis sighed and shook his head. He, it seemed, adapted better to her odd way of speaking than others. Ardyn’s funny way of talking contributed to that, as well.

Her phone chimed, startling her out of fondly watching Prompto trying to bend in the strangest ways to get the best angles.

It was Lehko. Her eyes lit up.

>im close. c u soon.

She quickly typed back a response:

>should i save you a steak? got dinner reservations.

_Ding!_

>not that close. tmrw. stay safe pls.

Sie sighed, disappointed:

>haven’t seen you in weeks. hurry the f up.

_Ding!_

>busy in dyna. sry.

She rolled her eyes:

>k.

_Ding!_

>ur cute when u pout

Sie rolled her eyes and quickly punched back:

>i’m rolling with a new crew now. you’ll be jealous

_Ding!_

>theyll like me more thn u

She wrinkled her nose:

>nuh uh

_Ding!_

>y r u texting me so much if u have ur new crew?

Sie sighed:

>whatever, kitten

_Ding!_

>dont see titan w/out me. ull hurt urself again.

At that, she clenched her teeth and locked her phone, slipping it into the pocket on the inside of her metal waistguard. Not worth much arguing with him, there. Pain was mandatory in their line of business. At least Lehko was lucky enough to be her retainer, and not the other way around.

Sie hooked her thumbs into the blue belts on her hip. They connected with a heavy silver cross, which shone bright when the sun struck it. So, too, did the gold crosses on her white sleeves; ornate, like belonging to finer Tenebraean robes than sleek Insomnian body armor. It was driving Ignis up a wall, trying to discern her nationality.

“I’m going on my lunch break,” she announced, feeling the weight of Ignis’s stare on her cheek. She waved at him and Prompto before turning toward the nearby cafe. “I’m almost hungry enough to eat the Alicorn.”

Other than the understandable staring, she was able to venture forth, order, and eat in the lovely, air conditioned cafe without being bothered. Children pointed and murmured, of course - she _was_ wearing a horn on her head, but that was about the size of it. The fries were good and, while she couldn’t _identify_ the battered-and-fried animal she’d just consumed (with a squeeze of lemon, of course), it certainly had been satisfying. Glancing at the clock, she patted herself on the back for not ordering so much she’d spoil dinner.

_Ding!_

She glanced at her phone, lying next to her mostly-empty plate. A notification from Noctis.

>hey, where’d you go?

She answered quickly:

>got lunch. you okay?

_Ding!_ Almost instantly:

>i’m okay, but like

>there’s this guy. pops up sometimes to help us. sort of.

She typed quickly:

>is he cute?

_Ding!_

>ffs, he’s just really uh

>creepy

>he’s here

Sie set down more than enough gil to cover her lunch and stood up. She sidled through the tables and chairs to the door, waved to the staff, and stepped out of the cafe.

Sure enough, there was a new person outside of the camper. She couldn’t see him well from where she stood, but she _could_ see how rigid Ignis was, and how Prompto was practically hiding behind the Alicorn. The man was talking and gesticulating at Noctis, who still cherished his phone in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

In the back of her mind, she found it sweet that Noct had messaged her like it was second nature.

Well, a headache was a headache - be it from Titan, or from a looming gentleman with clothes almost louder than his hair. It was time for _her_ to wonder whose carpet matched the drapes. Fuchsia? Really?

She made a swaggering path toward the camper; steps deliberately noisy with pebbles, dirt, and concrete beneath her boots. She approached from behind, allowing Noctis to see her first while she surveyed the “creepy guy” speaking with him.

He was tall, and broad with the heavy coat he wore. Only Gladiolus could’ve been bigger than him. Sie had spent enough time in the world to spot a dangerous man when she saw him. His posture was balanced, the same way Gladiolus had balanced when he’d interrogated her - straight backed, but with a sway from foot to foot.

“I nip away for a quick lunch break, and you’ve already replaced me?” Sie asked playfully, eyes sparkling and fox-clever grin pulling on her mouth.

Prompto, Ignis, Noctis, and Gladiolus (who made a speedy return when Ardyn showed up) all looked to her with various forms of relief. Sie had the countenance of a woman that could handle people like Ardyn. They were, after all, two sides of the same coin.

The new hanger-on turned to look at her, only to pause and stare at the horn before regarding the rest of her. “It seems to be a day for making friends, does it not?” he asked at nobody.

Oh fuck. _That voice._

Her fingers twitched. She wanted to tell Lehko, but now wasn’t the time.

She put on her clever little grin instead. “It must be something in the air,” she said, turning to fully face him and offering her hand. “Sie, at your service,” she said, cutting down her introduction into bare threads.

He closed hands with her. His eyes were bright gold, save for the starburst of green she could only see up close. He was _looking_ at her; his stare like a cackle and a thief at once.

She made a point of squeezing his hand hard. The swiftest way to put a man off his guard, as a woman, was to shake his hand like a stubborn doorknob.

Sure enough, it caused a shimmer of interest ghost through his pupils as they let go. “Please, call me Ardyn. A friend of His Highness, are we?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it…” Noctis grumbled under his breath, mostly at Ardyn.

“A wayward traveler on the same adventure. I have business with the Archaean, too,” she replied, matching the smooth purr he used on her. “Are you a member of His Highness’s Royal Retinue?” she asked, feigning ignorance. Best not get Noct caught out for texting her his SOS signal.

“If only for a day,” Ardyn replied. “My humble place is at the helm of this leg of Prince Noctis’s adventure with the Astrals.”

“Ardyn’s leading us to the Disc,” Noctis elaborated flatly. He sat down next to Ignis, still palming his phone like he could get a second Sie to magically appear if he texted her. “He paid for the caravan.”

Sie canted her head to one side like a curious cat. Really, she was countering the patronizing, empty smile he had on his face. “Oh? Is that a fact? Would that I always had handsome strangers doing the same for me. I’d spend fewer hours with a tip jar and a cello in the subway.”

“You play cello?” Prompto forgot himself.

Sie didn’t break gaze with Ardyn. “I do. Music is one of my pastimes.”

“You mentioned you can sing and dance,” Noctis provided. He was watching the staring contest between Ardyn and Sie with morbid interest, praying that Ardyn would lose.

“I also mentioned I can make princes stare at me like I’m pushing rocks into my nose,” she added, lifting a finger at him, but keeping trained on Ardyn. “But, yes. I was telling the truth. I know some music. I know some singing. I know some dancing. These things are easy to pick up by accident when you travel as much as I do. And are bored as much as I am.”

She refused to even blink, and so did he.

“Do you two know each other?” Prompto asked, oblivious until he actually paid attention to their faces. _Ah. Pissing contest._

“I am certain I would remember if I did,” Sie answered before Ardyn.

Ardyn hummed thoughtfully, breaking gaze with her as he circled around her; looking her up and down from every angle. Predatory. “I do say, you seem rather familiar, but I cannot put my finger on it. How embarrassing for me,” he sighed, dramatic as he tapped his chin.

Sie stubbornly stared at him for a few moments longer. “Even moreso for me!” she sighed with equal dramatics. “What a faux pas! I’m sure, Ardyn, I would remember you much better on any other day. Alas, I think the grit from travel has lodged itself into my ear, and the Archaean is doing me no favors. Sand in the brain. Awful affliction. Makes one lose tracks of the men most worth remembering.”

“I will do everything in my power to forgive you,” Ardyn drawled, smiling. He wasn’t facing Noctis, but the Prince didn’t need to see to know that was that lamprey-like smile and dead-eyed stare. Like he’d forgotten how to work his face at all, and was only copying smiles he’d seen in a book. “ _Sie,_ you said? What an interesting name.”

A warning bell went off in her head at the recognition in his eyes. He wasn’t lying. He really _did_ recognize her.

The staring contest was on again, but she wouldn’t let him trip her up. “Easy to text one-handed, which is about as interesting as it gets,” she replied with a humble little shrug.

“Oh come now,” Ardyn tutted. Patronizing. “Selling yourself short in such a way does you no credit! For one with business with the Archaean - colluding with _Prince Noctis -_ you should derive more pride in your name, surely? Or is there something to be avoided with it, for you to shrug it away like that?”

Noctis paled. Prompto paled. Ignis paled. Gladiolus paled.

She didn’t. She wouldn’t. The warmth of the sun beating down on her dark armor helped in keeping her face a healthy pink. “Is humility not a virtue, Ardyn?” she asked, kittenish and sweet. “How am I supposed to comfortably boast when I know the caliber of the people I’m presently standing with? Some names resound brighter than others, and my interest is more in spectating than orating.”

He chuckled, the sound ringing hollow. “Fair enough, then. A wayward traveler, interested only in sights than in speaking.”

“You’re one to talk,” she retorted, eyes flashing cleverly. “Surely you have a thousand secrets to tell, in your own right, but you’re more interested in me? I’m flattered.”

“Uh, I hate to interrupt, but…” Prompto interjected, and pointed toward Noct, who was sitting on the steps of the camper with his head between his knees.

He could’ve shattered his molars from how hard he was gritting his teeth. He didn’t want Ardyn seeing him weak from the pain in his head, but there was nothing he could do but sit silently and pray the sudden burst of pain faded on its own - that Titan got the message and would leave him be.

Ardyn let out a sympathetic sigh. “Ah, the rhyme holds true, does it not?” he mused.

Sie cocked an eyebrow at him before brushing by; arm brushing against arm as she made her way to Noctis. “Poetry gives me a migraine, too,” she said, loud enough for Ardyn to hear as she smoothed her hand against Noct’s forehead. “You know, if these migraines get any closer together, you might just cough up a little Archaeanling.”

_“Ugh,”_ Noct moaned, clutching his head. He welcomed the kiss of her magic, and welcomed it as it blew away the pain. This time, she’d gotten to him fast enough that his nose hadn’t bled. Coupled with her ability to handle Ardyn, it made him extremely reluctant to want to part ways with her at all. “Hurts…”

“I know, sweets,” Sie sighed. “I may have to do something a little more lasting, if we’re gonna see you through to the Archaean at all.”

“What kind of ‘long lasting?’” Gladiolus’s low, rumbling timbre butted in.

“A ward,” she answered. “Against the Archaean, at least until we get there. I can prevent Titan from being able to speak into Noctis’s mind at all. It will get him through to tomorrow, but I’ll have to remove it when it comes time to actually confront him. He won’t be able to understand anything Titan says with it in place, but it will stop the pain.”

There was a moment, the boys communing silently while she lingered at Noct’s side. She could feel the intensity of Ardyn’s stare on her, but refused to match it. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, opening a message to Lehko:

>might be in trouble.

>i think someone recognizes me

>like, for real

She locked her phone with the press of a button, preventing roaming eyes from seeing the chat field while she waited.

_Ding!_

>fuck

_Ding!_

>who?

She pursed her lips:

>name is ardyn. found him talking to the lucian prince. bro recognizes me, s2g

She almost dropped her phone when her ring tone went off - little song she’d played with Lehko. It was comforting, and let her know who was calling.

She looked to the men around her. “You decide on what you want to do. I have to take this.”

She brushed by Ardyn again, their shoulders touching as she walked toward the cafe to get some noise pollution before answering.

“Hey,” she breathed into the receiver.

_“Hey, yourself. You’re in trouble.”_

Her stomach clenched. “How bad?”

_“Bad. Tall, weird fashion sense, maroon hair? Wavy, like a shampoo ad?”_

“I would call it fuchsia, but yeah, that’s him.”

_“Uh oh.”_

“Uh oh?” she parroted, turning at the waist to look back toward the camper. Ardyn was still there, and he was still staring. “Uh oh.”

_“Yeah, the Ardyn you’ve run into is the Izunia kind.”_

It was finally her turn to go bone white. “As in, Imperial Chancellor? _The guy whose house we fucking blew up?!”_

_“Yeah - look, he’s probably more interested in the Prince right now. With the Nifs floating around Lucis this much, he probably wants to corner him. Stay close and under that radar, and then bolt the moment he’s got Izunia’s full attention. He’s not gonna try and catch you if he needs his hands on the Prince. I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can. In the meantime, play it cool. Don’t let him trip you up. Predators always go for the chocobo that stumbles first.”_

She nodded to herself, kicking around a rock and frowning grimly. “Yeah, got it. And, the kid…?”

_“Useful, but not essential. You’re more important. Don’t turn into Bleeding Heart Sie, got it? Business first, damsels in distress second. We really shouldn’t have fooled around so much back then. We get into too much trouble when we’re bored.”_

“You’re telling me,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, nudging her glasses. “Well, we head to the Disc tomorrow. Early, I hope. It’ll be a smash-and-grab, and then I bail.”

_“Go ahead of them if you can. The more space you put between yourself and Izunia, the better.”_

“I’m not sure that’s possible. I’m hearing that he’s the only way we can get to the Disc at all.”

_“Then it means the Nifs have taken up residence around it. Damn. Just… use your wiles. Duck and weave, like with any fight. And stay in touch, alright? Keep me posted. I’ll move through Dynamis and pop out regularly to get signal and check your messages. It’ll be more sluggish than I’d like, but it’ll do.”_

“I want that on my tombstone,” she chuckled weakly, feeling the sweat on the nape of her neck and knowing it wasn’t from the heat.

_“Stay safe, Sie. I’m coming.”_

“See you, Lehko.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to say hello on tumblr! http://insipid-drivel.tumblr.com/


	3. Balls. Balls, balls, balls.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asparagus can tell the future better than any oracle can.

A small chime marked the end of the call. Immediately, Sie put on an easy facade. Just like at a garden party, it was time to pretend she was better than everyone else in the world. Her first priority was making sure Noctis was as appealing to the Nifs as possible, and that was by making sure he was in top shape to meet with Titan. Even if it was an ambush, a prince was more valuable than…

Well, she was technically a terrorist. She tried to avoid the “T” word, but there it was. That’s what the Chancellor would see her as, no doubt. Which made her a  _ very  _ high priority - worthy enough of a two-person sting. Would Ardyn try to catch them both?

Balls.

_ Ding! _

It was from Noctis.

>you okay?

She glanced up. Ardyn was still there, and still staring, but Noctis had joined him in looking. 

Balls. Balls, balls, balls.

She bowed her head and stared at the chat field. She  _ needed  _ to go with them to see Titan, and if they knew that they were in the presence of the Imperial Chancellor, the going would be that much rougher, and that much more dangerous.

>just lehko. all’s good.

She could’ve said that to him in person, but alerting Ardyn to Lehko seemed like a hilariously stupid idea. So, she sent the quick four-word summary and returned to the camper with the boys, and the man that would be signing her execution warrant. 

A shame he was handsome. What a waste.

“Alright,” she breathed, smiling charmingly as she returned to Noctis. “What did you think of my suggestion? Are we putting the ward up?”

Noctis pursed his lips, pausing a moment, before shaking his head. “I think it may be a better idea not to. In case Titan has something useful to say.”

She nodded, respecting the decision. “We’ll manage the pain, then,” she agreed, sounding like a doctor in her mind. “And… sleep on your side.”

Noctis made a face. “Why?”

She grimaced. “In case your nose bleeds in your sleep.”

“You could choke on the blood,” Ignis detailed, making the same face of disdain as she was. “Best listen to her, Noct.”

“You some kind of doctor or something?” Gladio asked. He’d been sitting near Noctis and glaring at Ardyn, who pretended not to notice.

Sie shrugged noncommittally and made a vague gesture with her hand. “I know a thing or two about healing and medicine, but I couldn’t do heart surgery or staple your leg back on, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s old magic,” Ardyn interjected, much to the chagrin of literally everyone. “Like the healers and oracles of old would use, no? Very rare to see, especially since Princess Lunafreya is Eos’s resident oracle at the moment…”

He leered at her like he had the power to undress her with his stare alone, but she didn’t waver. She met his eyes, proud, clever, and cagey. “A little bit of magical thievery, is all.”

“That’s what Summoners do, right?” Noctis asked.

_ Fuck you, Noctis. _

She caught her exasperated sigh in her throat, turning it into a patient nod instead. “It gives me a certain propensity toward wielding the elements I work with, yes.”

“What’s a Summoner?”

_ Fuck you, too, Prompto. _

“Yes, I’m rather intrigued, myself…”

_ Fuck you twice, Ardyn. _

She wondered if she could make it to the Alicorn and take off before Gladio had her by the horn. 

Even anxious, she let none of it slip, and chewed over the answer, like it was something more complicated than it really was.

“A Summoner is a student of magic specializing in communing with the Astrals,” she said, adjusting her little round glasses on her nose. They glinted in the lowering sunlight - gold. “I am not an oracle, and I am not a royal. It’s a bit like being an extremely hands-on priest. I’m traveling to the Disc with you all because I, too, am meeting with the Archaean.”

She reached down and patted the thick, armor-plated book on her hip. “I document what they say. I translate for them. I understand the Astrals’ language that, normally, only a king or oracle can decipher. I then take that information and pass it on to shrines and temples. My job is important because, during the gap years between when an oracle and king are fit to make their adventures to the Astrals, I am able to go instead and ensure they’re listened to. In ages long gone by, it was how they were talked out of performing greater natural disasters. Leviathan, especially, required a Summoner to commune with her regularly.”

“Odd for such an important job to be unheard of…” Ignis cut to the quick.

She grimaced. “Ah, yes… I’m afraid I’m the last one. I think, anyway. We’re extremely solitary creatures, we Summoners. The most I know of the population of my kind extends to what the Astrals have told me. I’ve met with them several times, and never have I heard of anyone but me coming to see them.”

Sie extended a hand and snapped her fingers. In her palm appeared a collection of light-bound bubbles and sparkles - the fully-formed coalescence of the magic she used to heal Noct’s head. “Healing waters, from Leviathan.”

She snapped her fingers again. A tiny thundercloud with sparks of lightning hovered above her palm. “Ramuh’s lightning. Good for deep-tissue massages, I’ll tell you what.”

She grinned a little, again snapping her fingers. A crystalline prism, so cold it put off steam in the warm air. “Shiva.”

_ Snap.  _ A network of beautiful jewels and crystals hovering in the air. “Titan.”

She lowered her hand and dispelled the little sprite. “The connections are easy to maintain, as I cannot conjure the Six forth, as a Lucian King can do. I am merely gifted with a few tricks, rather than a full-blooded covenant. The heavy lifting is for oracles and kings. I’m best suited for soothing headaches and magically making my drink cold.”

Prompto was leaning on his elbows over the table, starry-eyed and fascinated, if a little intimidated. “Have you ever met Ifrit?”

She noticed Ardyn twitch. Oh yes, he  _ was  _ curious about that. Prince Noctis could have all the readily-accessible Astrals he wanted, but Ifrit? The Infernian? Bringer and wielder of the starscourge? 

Sie nodded, meeting Ardyn’s interested leering. “I have. Once.”

To prove it, she lifted her hand and snapped her fingers. Fire. Raging, passionate flames wrapping around her fingers like a loving serpent. “Before he was tainted and led astray, Ifrit was a deity of passion and love. He gave mankind fire, as you likely know, until he was befouled. Nevertheless, he still exists, and will speak when a friendly ear is turned to him, and supplications made. Tithes paid. Succor. You know how it is.”

She closed her fist, dispelling the fire, and sat down in an empty chair near where Ardyn stood. Chancellor or no Chancellor, her feet were sore, and he wasn’t likely going to try to arrest her yet. “In the days before the scourge, Summoners would commune with Ifrit regularly. He was friendlier than Shiva, even, and it wasn’t unheard of for him to take one of us as a mortal lover.”

It was an easy tale to tell, but Sie’s factoid about her kind had  _ very suddenly  _ garnered the pointed stares of the men around her.

She flashed copper-colored eyes at all of them. “What?”

“...You  _ did  _ say you met him,” Gladiolus rumbled, cocking an eyebrow.

“What? No! I mean… Well…”

Ignis’s eyes widened. “You didn’t…?”

“No way,” wheezed Prompto.

“Don’t tell me you…” Noctis winced.

Ardyn’s stare felt violating.

She swallowed tightly, rubbing the spot on her cheek he was staring at. “Ah, well, festering with starscourge he may be, it was the eve of my eighteenth birthday, I was heeding his summons, and I was already too drunk to write straight. And, I’ll have you know, that he’s extremely attractive and still very much has his mojo.”

_ “Oh my gods!”  _ Noctis gasped, covering his ears. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“I  _ do  _ hope it was worthwhile…” Ardyn hummed, but he didn’t seem as sing-song as he usually was when he was being patronizing. “Who would’ve thought? The Infernian, seduced by a maiden with a horn to compare with his. Do tell; did you come away unscathed, or do the scars linger out of our line of sight?”

“That isn’t exactly any of your business,  _ Ardyn, _ ” Prompto snapped in sudden surprising defense of her. 

Huh. Must be making a positive impact. Time to keep at it.

She smiled with a false sort of seductiveness and stood. She faced him, forced to stare up at him. If she stepped closer, the tip of her horn would provide him with a surprise tracheotomy. Without it, the top of her head barely reached the center of his chest. Nevertheless, she struck him by the sun shining off her copper irises.

He met her challenging leer with a sardonic, untouchable smile. They knew who they were to each other. The recognition when they met eyes was almost audible, yet both knew it wasn’t yet the time to clash blades over it. 

Maybe he’d let it go if she bought him another house.

Yeah, that might do.

Sie reached up, her fingertips finding several tiny catches beneath the cross on her chest. Without breaking gaze, she undid it, pulled it aside, and revealed a tiny zipper at the very top of the skin-tight collar. 

She pulled it down, just above her breasts, and peeled one side of it away to reveal her trapezius. And, to reveal a prominent burn scar in the shape of a lover’s bite. Sharp upper and lower canines forming an inhuman set of punctures, having seared deep without being quickly treated by a potion or Leviathan’s healing magic. 

She bounced her eyebrows at him. She zipped the suit back up and refastened the cross. “And, no. No starscourge. ‘No glove, no love,’ and all that.”

Sie sat back down, effectively ending Ardyn’s line of inquiry. Not that the boys had much better to fixate on. They all saw the scar from the angle she’d been standing at. There were mixed emotions in the lot of them, but she didn’t care to document them all. Instead, she turned her attention to Ignis. “It’s getting close to dusk. Do you need any help with dinner?”

Ignis broke out of his shock, stammered a little, adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and gave her a jerking shake of his head. “I have it covered. Thank you, though.”

“You didn’t poke his eye out with the horn thing?” Gladio asked, pointing vaguely at his own forehead and wincing a little.

“We weren’t face-to-face,” she answered easily, smirking when Gladio shifted uncomfortably. “He has a throne he likes to make good use of.”

Ignis cleared his throat as Prompto and Noctis turned red.

Gladio made a stuttering “uh,” noise. “Good… Good to know.”

She didn’t care to look and see if Ardyn was leering. He probably was. Not that she blamed him. She made people stare at her all the time. 

Ignis, needing something to do with his hands, announced it was time to start cooking. She was reluctant to let him cook for her when she did nothing but listen to the boys and Ardyn talk. 

_ Ding! _

>u ok?

Lehko again, bless him. She glanced up at Ardyn before typing:

>so far. guy’s intense. narcissist af. loves to hear himself talk.

_ Ding! _

>sounds abt right. should b there soon. garuda is helping me

She wrote:

>she know we’re gonna probably meet levi?

_ Ding! _

>yeah. shes eager. b careful. she wants out.

She frowned, feeling a thrill of anxiety:

>i’ll try to keep her under control. scared she’s gonna overpower me, though. 

_ Ding!  _

>u got this. b there soon. hang in there.

She smirked, writing:

>you should be in one of those motivational cat posters. we’d make a killing.

Noctis appeared from her peripheral vision and sat beside her. He was paranoid; never taking his eyes off Ardyn for longer than a few moments when he showed up in his line of sight, with his stare intensifying when he manifested himself behind Sie. Probably why he sat with her to begin with.

“So,” he took a stab at conversation. “You said something about Terrestrial… things?”

“Ah,” she clucked, locking her phone and putting it away. “Yes. Terrestrial Avatars were former Astrals cast out of the fold during a great conflict long ago. Knowledge of them has faded over time, as the conflict took place over five thousand years ago.”

Noctis’s eyes widened. “So, Summoners have been around that long?”

She nodded. “Yes. In fact, that was how we were created. With fallen Astrals littering our half of the universe, someone needed to commune with them. Actually, you might be able to see us as cousins to the oracles we have today. Where oracles form covenants with the Astrals, we form covenants with the Avatars.”

“So, who are they?” Prompto probed, leaning toward them again. Gladio, too, was interested, but only showed it in how he craned his head in their direction.

“Well, there’s Phoenix - which is why those pretty little feathers exist. He was nearly destroyed by Bahamut during the conflict, but was rescued just before his light died forever.”

“Who rescued him?” asked Noctis.

Her face turned wistful. “ _ ‘From my hand, the edict scrawls; Erstwhile as the last rote falls; From the earth a child bawls; From the dark my helpless calls; ‘Cast him out,’ the sovereign drawls; Banished from the sacred halls; Live for me, lest I shall die; Take me in, that I may fly; If we are we, then what am I?’” _

Noctis’s enthusiasm dwindled. His eyes strayed to Ardyn, whose eyes had strayed to them. “My, my,” the man said. “It would seem that there are more nursery rhymes to be learned than just those of the Archaean.”

“Phoenix was rescued by a little girl,” she enlightened when it looked like Noctis was on the verge of another migraine. “She took the last vestiges of Phoenix into herself, becoming his vessel while he healed from the damage done by the Draconian. However, Phoenix lost his wings in the conflict, and couldn’t fully heal. That’s why you can find his feathers here and there.”

Noctis cringed. “So, Phoenix is out there, but stuck inside some girl, with no wings?”

“Precisely so,” she nodded solemnly. “Whispers on the wind say that, should Phoenix ever retrieve his wings from Bahamut, the conflict would begin again, with a vengeance. Literally.”

“So, you have a covenant with him?” Gladiolus asked.

She shook her head, looking a little down for it. “Unfortunately, being bound inside of a person makes it almost impossible for Phoenix to extend his power beyond his host. The most I can do is hear him if he wishes to communicate with me.”

“What about the others? Those Avatar thingies,” Prompto nudged.

“Well, there’s Diabolos, Atomos, Fenrir, Alexander, Garuda, Cait Sith, and Odin,” she listed, counting on her fingers. “All cast out for various reasons and shunned by the Astrals. There was an awful smear campaign against them for a few thousand years. It’s why you’ve either never heard of them at all, or only know them in myth or anecdote. They’re real, though. Not just printed on the Alicorn,” she chuckled, pointing at the bike parked nearby.

“And here I was raised to believe they were nothing more than bedtime stories and constellations,” Ardyn cut in, much to the chagrin of literally everyone. “Impressive, how the Draconian could cast out Astrals numbering greater than the Six. It does make one wonder at the draconic deity’s pugnacity. Tell me; are they, too, locked away inside selfless hosts? Parasites, living in the shadows?”

A smirk slowly spread its way across her face. They met eyes again, while the others all seemed to lean away from the line of fire. Noctis couldn’t tell if they liked or hated each other. The latter, hopefully. He’d hate being forced to like her less if she approved of Ardyn at all.

“Now, answering that would take away all the fun, wouldn’t it?” she mused at Ardyn, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair. “I’d have to take you on as an apprentice to teach you much more. I do say, you would look pretty with a horn like mine, Ardyn. You seem the bookish sort, but the price of joining the fold is one only a few are willing to take. Come now; feeling daring?”

“Ah, alas,” Ardyn sighed dramatically. “I am far too busy for such laborious pursuits. As attractive as the secrets of our little universe are, my responsibilities are of the more temporal sort. I hope you understand.”

_ Ding! _

“Just a minute,” she paused, rummaging for her phone. 

>im here. i see u

Her eyebrows lifted as she wrote:

>gonna join us?

_ Ding! _

>staying back in case the shit hits th fan. u good?

She looked disappointed, but replied:

>okay right now. the prince and his boys are a good buffer. they like us.

_ Ding!  _

>us?

She smirked:

>they checked our chocogram

_ Ding! _

>lol. k. im watching u. 

“Is that Lehko?” Prompto asked her, pulling out of her reverie in a way that prevented her feeling frustrated at being interrupted.

“A paramour, I wonder? Ifrit may be jealous,” Ardyn teased.

“Just a close friend,” she answered. He already knew who Lehko was, and she knew he knew. 

She hated playing hard-to-get with the Chancellor. They both had come to the roundabout agreement to keep the Prince and his companions out of the loop until absolutely necessary. She, because involving them would be disastrous. He, because he likely had Nif-related plans he didn’t want spoiled.

Either way, letting them know what was going on would result in Ardyn being more of an obstacle than he was already. Nothing was ever easy, was it? Ardyn could’ve been born a skeevy Lucian instead of a skeevy Chancellor of Niflheim, and all she would have to worry about was stranger danger. 

Nope. Had to be the guy whose house she and Lehko blew up. Had to be the  _ handsome  _ guy whose house she’d blown up.

Not fair. In any other universe, she would’ve been flirting with him in earnest. Instead, she was stuck flirting with him in the name of frantic deflecting and dominance assertion.  _ Not fair, not fair, not fair. _

Fortunately, the dinner Ignis had planned was cooked quickly. The tactician had learned long ago that their road trip feasts were desired quickly, as they were always starving after a long day of wilderness survival and hunting. That night, Ignis had also been motivated to cook something simple out of consideration for Noct’s headaches. Getting him to stomach anything at all was a trial, lately. The Archaean was turning him wan and sallow, much to the concern of his friends.

However, once he started eating, and after Sie had soothed his pain, the color returned to his cheeks. He tucked into dinner with abandon, paying little to no attention to the conversations carrying on over his head. 

“So, Garuda was once the Astral of air?” Prompto was asking. 

“The Anemoian, yes.” Sie was telling more stories, providing more than enough conversation for the lot of them. Even Ardyn had shut up once he’d been offered food (Ignis silently thanked her for buying an extra steak).

“How come she was cast down? Did she have a beef with Bahamut, like Phoenix?”

“Leviathan, actually,” Sie corrected him, tucking a thinly-sliced piece of steak into the channel between her molars and cheek. Ignis made a face at her poor manners, but remained silent and listened intently to her. “Eons ago, Garuda was once a simple bird, kept as a pet by a young prince. That prince was wounded and poisoned by Leviathan in battle.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Noctis interrupted. “How do you pull an Astral out of a bird?”

“How does one pull an Astral out of infinity?” Sie countered. “When her loving master succumbed to the venom and was perilously near death, she escaped her enclosure and flew to the heavens, as legend said that there lived a King of Birds-”

“Phoenix,” Ignis suggested.

She shot him a wink. “No spoilers. Anyhow - there was a King of Birds that could heal the prince of Leviathan’s venom. Garuda flew up, and up, and up; all the way into the sky, until her wings failed her, and she fell both from the heavens, and into despair.”

“But… what happened?” Prompto gave her the sad chocobo eyes.

“As she fell, a breath of divine wind encircled her. For her courage and love, that wind - the Anemoi - filled her lungs and rejuvenated her wings, and blessed her into becoming the Anemoian; changing her shape [into that of a woman bearing claws, wings, and beauty](https://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/3/3a/Garuda_Concept.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20120811005250). She was blessed with command over the sky, as well as the ability to cure the prince.”

“And she did,” Gladio supplied.

Sie confirmed it with a little  _ mm-hmm.  _ “She appeared before the prince’s window. He was dying, and unable to come around and see her. Nevertheless, she healed him, and watched him fall into a restful sleep. However… she was forced to abandon him, for she was no longer his beloved pet, and couldn’t rightly fit in the cage he had for her, anyway. And so, she ascended to the heavens to rule over the skies, watching the prince from afar, and keeping him safe from harm.

“However,” she breathed, frowning. “Garuda was also prone to vengeance and fury. She later sought out Leviathan and challenged her, in the name of avenging her prince.”

“But, she lost,” Ignis surmised somberly.

A sad frown pulled at the edges of her mouth. “And was cast down, shackled out of the Astral, and left to rot. She was stripped of her influence over the heavens, and is now locked away. Only we Summoners can hear her whispers, thanks to this divining rod.” She tapped the side of her horn and finished chewing. 

Prompto had begun snapping pictures. He always seemed to be sneaking photos, but was surprisingly adept at hiding it. His camera was small, but high-quality, and handmade with metal plating to help protect it from wear and tear. He always kept it close; if not around his neck on a heavy strap, then in the pocket dimension  _ thing  _ provided to him through Noctis’s connection to the Crystal.

“That’s… a major bummer,” Prompto complained from over the viewfinder of the camera. The shutter clicked at her, catching her sympathetic lamenting. “Do you think she’ll ever be free again? Can Summoners do stuff like that?”

Sie sucked on her teeth, standing with her empty plate in hand and quickly running into the camper to deposit it into the sink. She returned with three bottles of whiskey, but with no glasses. She had no time for that weak shit. 

She pushed a bottle toward Gladio, kept one by her side, and offered the last one to Ardyn.

He smirked, holding up his hand and pushing the bottle away. “By all means, don’t let me hasten you into a dry inventory. I was never one much for drinking.”

“Suit yourself,” Sie shrugged. She’d hoped it would serve as the beginning of many peace offerings in exchange for  _ not  _ being hauled off to Gralea. The mere thought of it made her crack into the bottle and take several long pulls, much to the surprise of the others. She didn’t even cough or gag on the fourth swallow - merely let out a throaty grunt and slammed the bottle down on the table. “ _ Man,  _ I should’ve checked labels. I may go blind from that dirty, backwater moonshine,” she huffed.

Gladio took a drink and quickly agreed with her. “And you were whining about CBR, too. Karma is rough, ain’t it?” 

“And now, I am glad I turned you down,” Ardyn snorted, that easy grin sliding across his mouth like a snake. “Do remember we’ve an early start tomorrow. The Archaean awaits, and no doubt does not take well to being neglected overmuch.”

_ “You’re  _ the one that insisted we stop,” Noctis reminded him with a raised eyebrow and an unimpressed scowl.

“So I did! But, would it not be the most wise to take rest as it comes? A warm bed and sympathetic healer may be in a more distant future, after tomorrow,” Ardyn retorted, eyes sliding to Sie like a daemon spotting prey in the dark.

She took another shot, just for that.

“You tryin’ to say something?” Gladio snarled, leaning forward like he had a mind to shoot to his feet and put himself between them.

“Of course not! I merely mean to suggest that you will not  _ always  _ be traveling together. Or am I mistaken? Has the guileless Summoner decided to join your merry band for good?”

“No,” Sie answered before Gladio could get more harsh words in. She fully expected to be arrested before they reached the next Astral. Why get their hopes up? Assuming they were hopeful to have her around at all. They seemed like it, but there was a difference between short-term companionship and long-term weight-pulling. “My path leads to the Astrals, but strays in between. There are other things I have to tend to on the way.”

“Oh.” Noctis looked genuinely disappointed. When he caught her noticing, he fought hard to school himself into a more impassive posture. “Well, you can text me when you’re ready to meet up. Keep in touch, Sie.”

A little bubble of warmth bloomed in her chest. Her face spread into a goony smile. “Sure thing. Same for you. Watch your ass, alright? I can’t be around to cure your headaches all the time. I could get in trouble for practicing medicine without a licence,” she joked.

“A sentence with jail time. Best to avoid that,” Ardyn needled her.

_ Fuck. _

She let it roll from her shoulders before she’d reveal any vulnerability. “I never was one much for bondage. Well… maybe a little. Given the right circumstance.”

_ “Okay,”  _ Noctis interjected with a noise of disgust. He flattened his hands on the table and pushed himself up. He’d cleaned his plate like a champion, and went to leave it in the sink alongside hers. “If you two are done, I’m going to bed.”

Gladiolus’s eyes flashed. “Hang on. What about you?” 

Sie flinched back beneath the weight of his sudden stare. “What about me?”

“Do you have a place to sleep?” he asked.

“Oh…” Prompto murmured. “Yeah. I don’t think there’s room in the camper for any more of us. I mean, if you wanted to bunk with us at all, or something.”

The insecure shrug highlighting his helpless murmuring made her smile. “I like lazing beneath the night sky. It’s no nevermind for me.”

“Ah…” Ignis’s face was illuminated by the light from his phone. He held up a finger to stop her short. “The forecast tonight predicts rain.”

Sie froze, paling. “Well, shit. I can ride into Lestallum, then, reluctant as I am to keep away from His Highness and his royal headaches. I  _ could  _ be convinced to share a bunk with one of you, if you’re so worried.”

“ _ Not  _ you,” Noct immediately blurted, narrowing his eyes on Ardyn.

“Perish the thought!” the Chancellor gasped, holding his hand to his chest like some scandalized socialite. “I would never think to infringe upon our dear healer’s personal space. Why not  _ you,  _ Highness? If you are so infirm from the Archaean’s chatter.”

Sie shrugged. She wouldn’t even have minded sharing a bunk with Ardyn. As far as she was concerned, they weren’t truly enemies yet. And, with Lehko nearby, she felt less inclined to be anxious. “I don’t mind, actually. So long as you save the fondling for when we’re in private.”

_ “Stop,”  _ Noctis snapped, covering his face with his hands. 

She had a giggle at Noct’s expense, shrugging noncommittally as she did. “How about we draw straws?”

“Sounds fair,” Gladio hummed.

Prompto nodded, worrying at his lower lip while  _ still  _ snapping photos. “I’ll agree to that.”

“Agreed,” Ignis nodded. He disappeared into the camper for a few minutes, and then returned with a handful of asparagus spears, clutched as one would clutch a bundle of straws. 

Gladio snorted. “Really, Iggy?”

“I mistakenly stocked enough to include His Highness,” Ignis explained primly, holding out his arm toward the rough center of the group. “The one with the shortest shares a bunk.”

“Happy to be the booby prize,” Sie chuckled. She sat back in her chair, bottle in hand, and grinned at them while she took a shot. She felt warm, pink-cheeked, and stupider than usual. Probably why she had such a sudden change of heart at the notion of bunking with Ardyn. Her recklessness loved to rear its ugly head when she was drunk. As did her poor sense in bedmates - demonstrated by the scar on her neck.

“Er - did we offend you?” Noctis asked nervously.

“Nah,” she laughed. “This is actually the funniest thing I’ve seen since Lehko and I spent a night drunk and punting imps off the roof of an abandoned warehouse. The sound they make as they’re soaring through the air nearly made me wet myself.”

At the mention of Lehko, she took up her phone:

>hey. guess who might be bunking with izunia tonight.

_ Ding! _

>pls dont

_ Ding!  _

>spoon a cactuar. itd b smarter.

She laughed at her phone, grinning around the pink in her cheeks:

>idk. he’s cute. i bet he’s a snuggler

_ Ding! _

>pls stop drinking

_ Ding! _

>srsly. cactuar. or the floor.

_ Ding!  _

>sie pls. hes gonna get handsy. i bet u.

She shook her head, typing:

>too drunk. don’t care. your fault for not making an appearance. could’ve spooned you instead.

_ Ding! _

>im gonna give u so much shit in dyna

“Uh… Well…” Prompto sounded uncertain. She glanced up.

“It would seem fate has spoken,” Ardyn sing-songed, holding the short asparagus spear between two fingers. “I hardly mind, of course. I sleep like the dead.”

The boys looked angry. Noctis was about ready to combust and earn himself another migraine before she waved a dismissive hand through the air. “We have a winner. Just try not to roll on top of me. You look heavy.”

_ “Stop,”  _ Noctis said again. This time, he took a drink. It was admirable, save for the light fit of coughs the rough, unmeasured pull ripped out of his throat. Not a big drinker, it seemed. 

She took a shot and wrote to Lehko:

>looks like bad touch chancellor is the winner

_ Ding! _

>remembr that whistle i gave u

She chortled and rose. The wind was shifting, and she was beginning to feel the cool humidity of oncoming rain on her face. She took the Alicorn XI and rolled it beneath the caravan awning. Between Lehko, her horn, and the Alicorn in a race for her priorities, the bike came perilously close to winning. It made her feel like she had wings without the hideously ugly craftsmanship of imperial airships.

Sie framed her hands on her hips and let out a satisfied puff of breath. Now that the Alicorn was safely tended to, she could focus on bedtime. “I’m turning in. Been on my feet or on that bike for the better part of fourteen hours.”

“Fourteen hours? Geeze!” Prompto wheezed. 

“The Archaean is annoying. I wanted to get here quickly,” Sie shrugged. “Now - going to bed. Enjoy the rest of your evening, gentlemen.” She dipped into a slow bow, turned, and stepped into the caravan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus factoid: In the olden days of FFXI, one was forced to level in groups. Poor, piddly little summoners were often relegated to playing the role of "shitty healer since we can't find a real one." As a result, one often saw summoners standing just outside of cities repeatedly spamming summoning macros to level their summoning skills.


	4. Cats and Burritos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's favorite Regal Feline finally makes his grand entrance.

Inside, she immediately began the meticulous job of unclipping the armor from the skin-tight kevlar suit. It was all she needed to do - the suit having been made to be comfortable as well as thick to pad her skin. It could take a small-caliber bullet,  _ and  _ felt like pajamas. Win-win. She didn’t even undo her hair, save to loosen it enough to comfortably sit at the nape of her neck.

So, in an abandoned corner, she left her excess things, except for the horn. It felt like an extra limb. The sensation of air on her forehead had become alien and frightening over the years.

Plus, it made an easy weapon in the event of an emergency. A swift headbutt to any aggressor would be potentially lethal. 

She crawled into an unclaimed bed, sliding in to snuggle against the wall, flat on her back and snuggled down into the bedding. She’d say it felt well-loved, but her suit included gloves, rendering her sense of touch muted. Going by eye, the comforter had seen better days, but wasn’t quite at the too-disgusting-to-use stage. Probably best she’d kept the suit on.

A couple of hours passed before her semi-conscious self felt the lumpy mattress dip at the edge. While she wasn’t fully awake, she still had the sense to scoot over, knowing by facing him down that Ardyn was significantly bigger than she was, coat or no coat.

The boys were filing in for bed, none of them willing to let Ardyn be the first to turn in. Seeing that, Ardyn had toyed with them; keeping them awake  _ just  _ a little longer than was fair. Why not? They were so easy to tease, these young men. 

Yet, even he was forced to pause. 

“...She  _ sleeps  _ with that thing on?” Gladio wrinkled his nose.

“That can’t be comfortable,” Noctis agreed. 

“Maybe she forgot to take it off,” Prompto suggested, though even he knew it probably wasn’t the case.

“Best be mindful of how close you get, Ardyn.” Ignis seemed pleased, eyes twinkling behind his glasses with mirth. 

“Oh, yeah! Maybe she kept it on on purpose,” Prompto guessed, hiding his grin behind his hand. He leaned over, balancing on the tip of his toes, to look a little closer at the horn. “Hey, it’s… It’s, like, glowing or something!”

_ “Sh!”  _ Ignis shushed him, his voice having pitched a little too high.

“A built-in night light. How sweet,” Ardyn murmured, only to pull a face and lean forward, taking a closer look at the gemstone horn. “To keep such a thing so close at hand must spell one fearful of nightmares.”

“Woah…” Gladio murmured. Indeed, a low light was trapped within the horn; so subtle that only the pitch dark of the back of the camper made it visible. The core of the horn carried a pale light, and pulsed. Like a heartbeat, revealing a miniscule network of some sort of threads or arteries coursing through it. 

Sie sucked in a deep breath and frowned, still barely awake. “I… am going to open my eyes… And, when I do… There had better be bodies in beds… Or there’ll be bodies on the floor. Choose one.”

Gladio snickered, grinning broadly at Ardyn. “Best of luck, pal.” He clapped him on the shoulder before moving on.

She  _ almost  _ sat up and cracked Gladiolus in the face, but the note of finality in his voice earned him a pass. The shuffling of many feet proved, without opening her eyes, that the threat was enough to dispel some of the obnoxious mouth-breathing over her face. Yes, she knew herself to be somewhat of a spectacle, but  _ seriously?  _ She should’ve just found a cozy bridge to sleep under with Lehko. At least Lehko didn’t have personal space issues.  _ What are these boys doing when they share the same tent? _

Sie remained tightly pressed against the wall and listened carefully to her bedmate. She listened to him shuck off his coat, remove his boots, unclip his vest, unfurl the scarf from around that fabulous ruffled collar, remove his gloves, and remove his belt. He must’ve run his fingers through his hair, as she was abruptly awash with the smell of… something. A vague men’s shampoo. Probably expensive. It tickled her nose. She was used to the milder-smelling shampoo Lehko used. 

In fact, Lehko was the only man she shared sleeping arrangements in in… Well, there had been Ifrit, but they hadn’t really  _ slept.  _

And, of course, Ardyn had to be the most potent threat to her cause than if Bahamut himself insisted on sitting in the middle of her chest until her ribs caved in. She merely thanked her lucky stars Ardyn was leagues more attractive. Slippery, yes, but attractive. She should probably go through some long introspection over finding power struggles alluring.

The dip in the edge of the bed changed into a proper weight lying beside her. He took a long breath through his nose, finding no shame in looking over at her as she lay, a little corpse-like, flat on her back and cramped against the wall. Courteous of her, to provide him with nearly the entire bed, even though the thing was wide enough she could more comfortably relax.

He smiled to himself. It hardly mattered. She wasn’t likely to have an easy rest, lying so close to him. Fate was a funny, funny thing; to reveal that Prince Noctis had managed to unwittingly lure out the vandal responsible for leveling his house ten years before?  _ And  _ for their budding friendship to be potent enough to have the Prince doing cartwheels to her defense at the slightest hint of trouble?

Oh, this would be fun.

Ardyn shifted, tucking one arm beneath his pillow to better prop up his head. The hypnotic thrum of the secret light inside her horn was fascinating - a bit like using a light to see into the contents of a chocobo egg. If she was what she said she was, it brought him to wonder at where one acquired such a relic, as well as what happened to the ancients that wore them. Never in all his days had he heard of a Summoner, which was… interesting.

Either a convincing lie, or a misleading truth. Regardless, he thought twice on outright killing her for causing him so much grief. A shame, too, to waste something so lovely. What was it with their era’s generation of servants to the Astrals? All so very lovely. Even Noctis was a pretty thing to look upon, even if Ardyn was driven close to him for less aesthetic purposes.

He listened to her breathing, counting the seconds between each inhale and exhale, and listening for where in her breast she breathed from. Awake and annoyed, and she breathed from high in her lungs; puffing and un-puffing. Asleep, and her breaths drew from much deeper, and slowed… slowed… slowed…?

Stopped?

Ardyn cocked an eyebrow. The light in the horn continued to pulse, but her breathing had completely ceased. He counted to thirty before he shifted and reached over, touching his fingers high on her neck to find a pulse. 

Her heart was beating in time to the slow, steady thrum in the horn. However, that rhythm was far too slow for a person to survive. In a hospital, doctors would be dousing her with adrenaline to keep her heart from stopping altogether. Should Ardyn, in all good conscience, sound the alarm and alert the young men in the caravan to come lament their inexplicably-dying companion? 

Not yet. She’d yet to go cold, and that thick, slow  _ ba-bump,  _ didn’t cease. Her heart would beat every fifteen seconds or so, unflagging. He kept his fingers to her neck for nearly two minutes before his curiosity got the better of him. He reached up and lightly touched his finger to her eye, gently pulling back the lid.

Black. Solid black, with faint evidence of crimson-painted light throbbing within, like the horn. No pupil or iris, but a faint haze of garnet covering a shapeless core of frail light. 

Curious, indeed.

He withdrew his hand. She didn’t stir.

Before he allowed himself to doze, he wondered if she’d managed to procure a bit of  _ infernal  _ help in terrorizing Niflheim.

 

* * *

 

 

Dynamis - the Realm of Dreams and Nightmares, ruled by Diabolos himself. 

Most never ventured into Dynamis in their dreams. Most humans had self-contained dreams; dreams that lingered within the subspace of their own consciousness, interacting with nothing but the figments of their imagination until they were good to wake again. Rare indeed was it for anything but what had been invited to cross into Diabolos’s realm.

It appeared first as a ghoulish skeleton of Eos, made manifest into a dream or nightmare by the minds that crossed into it. Sie had spent more of her life there than she had in the waking world. An outsider would see it as upsetting; waking in a copy of where they’d gone to sleep, save for stripped down into nothing but darkness and vague threads of gloomy light making up the simulacra of the waking realm.

When she opened her eyes to the darkness, she was in a maudlin copy of the camper. Echoes of the waking world formed when moved and touched things, giving the appearance of black dust crumbling away to reveal reality beneath. All save for the souls that unwittingly slumbered perilously close to that veil were muddled with Diabolos’s patina. 

Ardyn was beside her, his body wavering. He wasn’t fully asleep yet. Likely coasting on the highest form of slumber before he’d let it take him down into the deep. She needed no more proof than to see that obnoxious little smirk that clung to him, even at rest. It would fade if he fell into a deeper sleep.

She didn’t need to be careful in getting up. He wouldn’t feel her floundering and flopping over him, and landing on the floor. It felt like black sand, at first, before wave-like ripples dispersed it and revealed the familiar color, feel, and smell of the caravan floor. A perfect copy, save for how the dust tried to reform over the copy the moment she stopped touching it.

“Lehko!” she called. “You asleep yet?”

“I’m outside,” Lehko’s mellow voice made the edges of the nearby door blush with color, fading away just as quickly. 

She walked through the camper like a goddess of life leaving behind reality in a path of hazy darkness; ripples of color and shape giving way beneath her feet. The flimsy handle to the door turned a flaked, brassy color as it gave way beneath her, and then returned to a vague, black outline of a handle when she let go.

Lehko was sitting lazily in one of the camp chairs. His dewy, bedroom eyes - blue, like Noct’s - flashed up to her, and upturned into a casual smirk. The stripes on his cheeks shifted with the pulling of his cheeks, and he had to brush a stray lock of wavy, yellow-gold hair from his face. “Get felt up?”

“Unless I notice a hickey in the morning,” she shrugged.

“You said the same about Ifrit,” he snorted, pulling off the black knitted cap on his head and setting it on the table. [Black cat’s ears flicked upward from his wavy, messy mop of hair.](http://wiki.ffo.jp/img/14817/Lehko_Habhoka.jpg) He scratched them, shuddering and purring to himself. “I tried to go without the hat for an hour.  A toddler nearly pulled my ear off, and I was chased halfway across Lestallum by shrieking girls because I resemble their favorite anime character,  _ ears and all.” _

She laughed at his misfortune while he shook out his hair. There was a tail that went with those ears - black, and scruffy. She could see it peeking out from underneath him and dangling to the ground below; flicking idly, showing his interest, as well as showing he was pleased to see her. “They pull your tail again?”

“There’d be a news report if somebody did,” he chuffed. “A man’s tail may as well be his penis. You don’t go around tugging on it unless you’re in private.”

She belted out another, louder laugh. Loud enough to bring a flush of color and detail to the entire outer wall of the camper. “Just do the belt thing. It’s never failed you.”

“Yes, but how long can a man go with his tail wrapped around his waist before he loses the point of keeping it?” Lehko complained. He propped an elbow on the table, and balanced his cheek in his palm; squishing that half of his face and exaggerating his disdainful sneer. 

Wrapping his tail around his waist was his usual way of disguising his tail without going such lengths as wearing a longer coat, or trying to bring kilts back into fashion. Lehko could get away with using it as a “belt” to match his jacket - a matte black thing, trimmed with coeurl fur, and bearing black, ruffled feathers on the upper sleeves. He kept the thing partly open, revealing a series of black straps holding a greenish-gold jewel to his chest, which glowed with a faint light, like hers.

With that, he wore many bracelets and bangles, fingerless gloves, several belts over tight, black pants, ankle-boots decorated with bangles matching those on his wrists, and a belt on his thigh for his knife. It was a good look for getting around Insomnia, even if it earned him a multitude of  fans  when the two of them were in town. 

“So, how do we get out of dealing with Izunia?” she cut to the chase quickly, drumming her fingers on the table and causing shockwaves of color around her hand. “I’m sleeping next to him right now. So far, he hasn’t gotten fresh, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to make for some opportunities later.”

Lehko rubbed his temple without moving his cheek from his palm. “We can hope for a smash-and-grab - for us, at least. See to the Archaean, escape during the drama, and hope not to run into him again.”

“That sounds like a  _ me  _ solution,” she tutted. “You’re the tactician, Lehko. There has to be a better way of keeping our heads off the block.”

Lehko sucked on his teeth and sat back. The fur on his tail bristled. “We  _ may  _ forego it altogether. This opportunity to get close to the Archaean is a prime one, but not the only way. There are other methods we could employ in getting him to reveal himself from beneath the meteor.”

“Such as?”

“We use ourselves as bait. Allow Phoenix and Cait Sith to mark their territory enough to get his attention. He’ll want to kill us, but it would rouse him long enough for us to do the deed.”

_ “Ugh,”  _ Sie moaned. “Diabolos won’t like that. It’s sloppy, and could give us away.”

“I know,” Lehko nodded soberly. “None of this is going to go well with Izunia in the way. Has have given you any clue he may let it slide?”

She snorted, grimacing. “No. He’s just dropped clues that he knows as well as I do who we are. I swear, he’s the spider in my bed, and I’m waiting for him to crawl out and bite my face at worst possible moment.”

“And we can’t just kill him?”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “With the war on Lucis going on, I don’t think we can afford playing assassins.”

“And, if he disappears, that just turns more Empire attention our way,” Lehko groaned, rubbing his face with the heels of his palms. “Alright.” He sat up. “Here’s what you do-”

“What  _ I  _ do?”

“ _ One of us,  _ gets him drunk, seduces him, and sneaks away after he blacks out.”

_ “Wow,  _ you need to stop listening to my ideas,” she laughed joylessly. “I wish I was a cat. Then, I could come and go from here, body and all.”

Lehko’s tail flicked. “What about Atomos? We could make use of a cavernous maw. Hold back enough strength to open one and fall through it the moment our job is done with the Archaean.”

She made another frustrated noise and slumped forward, the shape of her body brushing away more shadowy dust from the table. It was cool against her cheek, and Dynamis provided the recollection of the smell and texture of the plastic. “Atomos is a glutton. If I want to start using cavernous maws, then the only way I could be strong enough to deal with the other Astrals would be by remaining here until the last possible second, and then returning again. Not to mention, Leviathan.”

Lehko’s eyes glazed over at the mention of the Hydraean’s name. “Fair point.”

“I couldn’t handle using the maws  _ and  _ handle Garuda at the same time.” She shook her head dourly. “I may as well make the pact to call on Fenrir, for all the good it would do.”

“I’ll do my best to stay as close as possible. I’ll stay in Dynamis until you need me. In the meantime…” he winced. “...I think we have to play into Izunia’s hand until he tips his cards.”

Sie stuffed her face into the cheap plastic of the table. “I change my mind. I want to stay here and be a dream-vet.”

Lehko hissed. “Try again.”

“Jeweler, then. To make the crowns for the  _ Most Regal of Felines.” _

“Better.”

They shared in a light chuckle. Sie got up and walked over to Lehko as he stood to meet her, and the two shared in a deep, long-awaited hug. One that made him purr, and made his tail unconsciously curl around her leg to keep her close. Lehko kept his nose against her neck, while she kissed the side of his hair. “Missed you,” she murmured.

His ear twitched. He hugged her tighter. “I hate this.”

She nodded somberly. “Yeah. Me, too.”

He hugged her even tighter, until her ribs groaned.

Sie’s body rippled suddenly in Lehko’s arms, like everything they touched in their strange world of dreams.

“You’re being roused, it seems,” Lehko mused, watching as she rippled again. Instead of coming more to life, each ripple caused black dust to powder her skin, her hair, and her suit. 

Sie sighed, giving him a mournful look as another ripple made black dust cover half her face. “My public awaits, it seems.”

“See you soon,” he promised, petting her cheek as she disappeared into naught but darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

_ “Sie. Sie! Hey!”  _ Prompto’s hushed, hissing voice pulled her the rest of way to consciousness. He was poking her, trying to jab at her side without his arm brushing against Ardyn, who seemed about as asleep a man like him could get. 

Sie gulped in a deep breath and let out a tiny,  _ “Oh…”  _ So soft that, when she opened her eyes, she found Prompto with a red face and wide, ashamed eyes. She hoped the black had bled out of her eyes before she’d opened them.

“Uh - I-... Sorry, but, um,” he was stammering,  _ and  _ whispering.

Sie scowled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Words, kid. Use them,” she murmured back.

“It’s just, Noct is…” He nodded over his shoulder to where the Prince was sleeping.

Noctis was trembling, drenched in a cold sweat, and clutching his head. Still asleep, the Prince wasn’t aware that there were tears trickling from his closed eyes, or how he’d curled himself into a tight ball. 

Sie sighed, “Well, shit.” Ardyn was between her and the floor. She should’ve gone with the share-with-Noct plan, but she was drunk, and ballsy, and further trying to prove to Ardyn that he didn’t intimidate her. 

She sat up, careful not to knock her head into the bunk above, and shimmied until she was sat by Ardyn’s feet before arching her back and carefully sliding over him and onto the floor. Prompto helped her straighten up and followed after her toward the back of the camper. 

“It’s just a migraine, right?” Prompto asked, not understanding the difference between whispering and hissing.

“Hush,” she said to both of them as she dropped to her knees. Noctis didn’t look far from outright falling out of bed, completely unaware of the true depth of pain he was in. 

Even through her glove, she could feel the heat radiating from Noctis’s skin. “Fever,” she muttered with a low hum. 

“Fever?”

“Pain and severe stress can sometimes cause fevers,” she explained over her shoulder. “It can be a sign of shock.”

“Is he gonna be okay?”

She frowned. Something was wrong. “Shut the door.”

Being in the “formal” bedroom, there was a small door that separated the back of the camper from the remainder. Prompto winced as the hinges squeaked, and breathed a sigh of relief when there was a greater sense of privacy. “So, he’s going into shock, or something?”

“Or something,” she murmured. The trembling was getting worse. “I’ll bet my horn that Titan is starting to cause inflammation in his brain. It could kill him, if it’s not stopped. Waiting an extra day seems to have been a mistake.”

“But, can you help him?” Prompto was doing an admirable job of holding back a panic attack. “Do we need to go to the hospital? Will an elixir help? Will-”

_ “Prompto,”  _ she said his name, coming sharp from her tongue. “Do you see me panicking?”

He flinched, shrinking back. “Um, no. Right. Shutting up.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Sie stood, shushing Prompto again. “I need to get some of my things. Hang tight, and keep him from falling out of bed.”

Prompto nodded like a bobblehead. She was gone barely thirty seconds, yet every one he counted based on the violent shivers he saw shake his friend to the bone; his teeth chattering, and every breath trembling to nothing. It sounded like he couldn’t get enough air, despite gulping in frantic breaths.

She returned with her armored book, and the knife she kept strapped to her thigh. It was a beautiful one - obviously not meant for actual combat. It was an athame, and one magnificently crafted to resemble the likeness of Phoenix. “Stay quiet and let me focus,” she said before anything could stumble out of Prompto’s mouth.

She snapped her fingers. The armored tome lifted into the air. A lock that kept it shut came open with a quiet  _ click,  _ and a cool breeze wafted over her face as the pages fluttered open. Pages that were… empty? From his vantage point, there was no writing in the book. None at all. 

Sie didn’t seem to know that, as she sat down on the edge of the bed and coaxed Noct to lie on his back. “Softly, now,” she soothed the trembling prince. She ran the backs of her fingers across his face as the pages in the book turned. “Softly, softly…”

The pages went still, and Sie took that cue as time to unzip the upper portion of her suit enough to shrug one arm out. Prompto thought it strange to see more of her skin. Like Ardyn, he’d forgotten the possibility that more existed of her beneath her armor. He wanted to ask why she didn’t change into something more comfortable, but it was hardly the time or place to discuss that.

He flinched. Sie had taken the athame and, for a horrible moment, he thought she would use it on Noct. No more perfect a time to assassinate the Prince of Lucis, right? 

Instead, Prompto winced as she turned up her palm. It was littered with pale scars from gods-knew-how-many slices. Some were barely visible, while others were so deep it was a wonder her fingers still worked at all. 

Another snap of her fingers. The armored quill tucked into a compartment along the spine of the book slid free of its container and hovered before the blank book. Sie drew a shallow cut across her palm, cupping her hand so as to form a puddle, and waited as the quill dipped its golden tip into her blood.

Prompto recognized none of the alphabet or ciphers that the quill wrote onto the blank page. It was all ancient, arcane shit he’d only ever heard talked about in temples and really, really old parts of the Citadel library. 

The blood pooling in her palm stopped flowing, leaving a finite amount in her hand without spilling a single drop on the floor. The quill occasionally stopped to dip into more as Sie murmured the words being written. The only word he recognized her murmuring was  _ Garuda. _

Prompto detected a note of finality in her words as the quill withdrew from the book for good. Sie’s hand seized. She bore her teeth in a pained sneer as the puddle in her hand bubbled, roiled, and writhed like it had a mind of its own. It trickled from between her fingers, falling partway to the bed before turning to sparkling vapor that slithered through the air toward Noct.

Her arm was shaking violently. It looked like something was trying to rip the blood from her hand by force, evidenced even more by strange marks appearing around her hand and up her arm, creeping along what Prompto could see of her chest, and threatening to ascend her neck. The marks looked similar to the ones that magic quill had written in her book, except the ones now on her skin looked remarkably painful. Like her blood had turned to crystal, and was trying to crawl out of her skin.

They were glowing by the time the blood stopped flowing, and the sparkling vapor finished flooding Noct’s nose, ears, and mouth.

Noctis slumped; the last of the vapor kissing his cheek before disappearing into his ear. His color returned, his shaking stopped, and nothing short of relief fell over his sleeping features. 

Sie ground her teeth, trying to flex her arm and force the raised marks back down. Prompto flinched. “Hey, are you okay? Sie?”

“M’fine,” she groaned, flexing her arm and rolling her shoulder.  _ “Enough,”  _ she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.  _ “Away for now. Soon, I promise you, but not now.” _

Prompto worried at his lower lip. “Sie?”

The marks disappeared, leaving clear skin beneath. The cut on her palm had sealed shut, leaving a pink mark like skin coming too close to burning. Relief came to her with a shudder, and she hung her head to catch the breaths she’d been holding. “All fine,” she said to Prompto. “I had to take more of a serious measure, since Titan seems in the mood to break his toys.”

Prompto blanched, shuffling uncomfortably in the corner as Sie collected herself and checked on Noctis. “Is he okay? Did whatever you did work?”

Sie inspected the sleeping prince with a few gentle touches. “Yeah. He shouldn’t have another migraine.”

“What did you do?”

“What you witnessed was the activation of a blood pact,” she explained simply. “Harder to do than summoning up some of the  magic I know from Leviathan.”

Prompto was brave enough to stand beside her, then. “What do you mean?”

Sie continued rolling her shoulder, feeling it stiff from the pact. “Garuda is one of the Terrestrial Avatars capable of both healing and silencing. I pulled some of her power from the aether to heal Noctis and put up a buffer that will stop him experiencing Titan’s visions. It will last until after we deal with him.”

“That looked like it really hurt, though,” Prompto remarked. “You use your blood to pull those Avatars out of hiding? Isn’t that some kind of heresy?”

“You didn’t strike me as the religious type, Prompto,” she snorted, getting to her feet and collecting her things. “Which is to say: Yes. It is. But I’m a Summoner, so I can do what I want. A blood pact with an Avatar allows me to sacrifice blood and soul to sort of ‘sponsor’ them into Eos for a short time. Yes, it hurts. Garuda, especially. Avatars are always aware of when you draw on them, and summoning any of their power can risk them trying to bowl you over and enter Eos despite you. That hurts, too.”

“How come, then? Why use a blood pact instead of Leviathan’s magic?” 

“Because I don’t like being woken in the middle of a dream,” she clucked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “And, while I may be a stranger to you, I don’t like seeing innocent people suffering. If I have to suffer for a little while to help, then that’s what I’ll do. That’s what it means to be a Summoner.”

Prompto nodded mutely, taken aback. He’d gotten the impression that she was the kind of girl that would run well with them, but he had yet to hear it from her own mouth. Seeing her use a blood pact looked  _ awful.  _ He couldn’t imagine feeling the blood in his veins crystallize and try to push its way out through his skin. He wasn’t sure if he’d even do it to help  _ himself,  _ much less a stranger he’d known for less than a day. 

“I’m going back to bed,” Sie sighed, tucking her book under her arm and nodding toward Noctis. “He’ll sleep like a rock. Best let Ignis know to plan for a late breakfast.” She sniffed, weariness creeping into her copper eyes. “You should sleep, too. Big day tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Prompto agreed. He pulled the squeaky door open for her, only to return to curl up at Noctis’s side. She tucked her things back with the rest of her armor and whatever-all-else-a-Summoner-used, turned at the waist to find him, and shot him a little salute. 

Ardyn was right where she left him, even if she suggested he was merely pretending to sleep. Not that she cared. Feeling Garuda try to forcibly claw her way out of her veins made her too tired to care about much of anything. He could get handsy if he wanted to. He’d be the only one giving a shit.

Not caring if she disturbed him, she crawled over his feet and slithered upward along her side of the bed, looking forward to her head meeting her pillow.

Her pillow, which was now resting over top of Ardyn’s outstretched arm. 

She stared for all of five seconds. 

Fuck it. She was too tired to be cowed or bothered. Like the evil little shit she was, she dropped her head backward and let it land heavily on the pillow, and on Ardyn’s arm. She heard him startle and grunt, twitching his arm and flexing his fingers like he thought she’d lopped it off. Not that she hadn’t considered it.

Her eyes were shut when she felt him shift and heard him draw in a deep, tired breath. He didn’t move his arm. “And what were you doing, up at this hour?” he asked, attempting that accusatory-and-teasing voice. It was bogged down from a throat thick with sleep, so it sounded more like a bemused grumble.

“Tryst with the Prince and the chocoboy,” she answered blithely. She rolled onto her side, putting her back to his hip. “G’back to sleep.”

He grumbled as she grumbled, but kept his arm right under her head. “So long as you used protection.” 

She hoped she’d manage to get his arm fully numb before morning. One less arm to apprehend her with.

 

* * *

 

 

The act of defiance backfired. Sie woke later that morning stuck with  _ both  _ of Ardyn’s arms touching her - the first, beneath her head still, and the other draped over her hip. They weren’t flush against each other (thank fuck for that), but she was still flooded with the smell of his soap and aftershave. A nice smell, if she was honest with herself, but the wearer left something to be desired.

She twitched and flexed without moving much. Her arm hurt. No doubt it would be one massive bruise when she next had the chance to wash and check. It wouldn’t be anything a potion couldn’t fix, but the ache in her bones themselves would linger for a few days. 

Noctis! She almost forgot! But, since there seemed to be no activity other than the quiet shuffling of Ignis taking advantage of the first shower of the day, she doubted anything had gone awry in the night. Prompto would’ve come and woken her again, and the others would have screamed and kicked up a fuss if anything more serious happened in the night.

Ignis was halfway to the bathroom, glasses not yet on his face, when he spotted Sie and Ardyn asleep together. The larger man had, indeed, rolled onto his side and thrown both arms around her, while Sie remained mostly asleep. He could see her stirring, and spied the way she tensed when Ardyn’s arm shifted when she stretched.

Wrinkling his nose, Ignis jabbed Ardyn in the shoulder with two fingers. “Watch your hands,” he warned, his voice thicker and deeper than usual. 

_ Tap, tap, tap. _

Ardyn twitched, furrowing his brow as he started to wake, while Sie rolled on her back and propped herself up on her elbows.

_ Tap, tap, tap. _

Ignis turned toward the door, seeing a shadow through the glass as the morning light peeked out from beneath spent stormclouds and the caravan awning. He padded away from Sie and Ardyn, leaving her to fight her own battles. Ardyn had chosen to be a child by stuffing his face in his pillow and refusing to move any other way.

The tactician opened the door and found himself blinking with vague recognition at a young man. Blonde hair. Stripes on his cheeks. Peculiar clothing. Knitted cap. “Ah, you are… er…” The name slipped his mind.

“Lehko Habhoka. I am Summoner Sie’s retainer. Is she here?” Lehko asked, foregoing pleasantries and weaving left and right for a better peek inside of the caravan.

Sie’s eyes snapped wide. “Lehko?!” she gasped, and flung herself over Ardyn like a drunken, scampering spider. She had to have kneed him twice on her way to becoming a heap on the floor. Ungainly, considering the power she possessed.

Lehko nearly fell back when Sie burst from the caravan and threw her arms, and weight, around him. “Finally!” she crooned, kissing his cheek and hugging him until he made an unflattering squeaking noise.

“Sie… A little tight…” Lehko wheezed when her hug began to suffocate him. He was smiling around the complaint, and wouldn’t admit to hugging her just as tight. “Glad to see you when the sun’s shining,” he murmured, chuckling.

She grinned, turning to face Ignis, who was merely staring. He had his toothbrush in his hand, and was wearing plain pajama bottoms and a soft shirt. “Lehko’s my partner in crime. Lehko, this is Ignis. He’s the advisor and tactician to Prince Noctis’s retinue.”

Lehko and Ignis exchanged in respectful nods; dreamy, bedroom eyes batting in the face of sharp, piercing ones hidden behind glasses. “Sorry to wake you,” Lehko murmured.

“Not to worry,” Ignis said after cleaning his glasses on his shirt. “I rise early. Will you be staying with us, Lehko?”

“Only in Sie’s company,” Lehko replied. “I won’t intrude.”

“Actually,” Sie interjected, tugging on a lock of Lehko’s hair. “I need to check on the Prince. Come with me.”

Lehko nodded and followed her into the caravan. The regal feline flashed Ignis an easy, lazy smile as he walked by, and did the same to a keen-eyed Ardyn as he ducked and wove to the back of the camper with Sie.

The two shut the door behind them after entering the makeshift bedroom. Ignis didn’t stop them, knowing full well that Sie had taken up the task of overseeing Noctis’s health. Which she did easily, coming around to lightly touch Noctis’s forehead and look him over for signs of further pain or distress. “The Archaean sent him into shock with his last vision last night.”

“That bad?” Lehko’s voice was comfortable at a whisper. A soothing purr.

“Bad enough I needed to crack into my palm and block the Archaean altogether. Garuda nearly tore my damned arm off trying to get out.”

Lehko lurched with concern. “Why Garuda?”

She shrugged one shoulder, testing Noctis’s pulse. “It was causing inflammation in the brain, among other things. I needed Titan silenced and the kid’s heart beating at the same time.”

The feline nodded slowly, looking Noctis over. “So young.”

“Older than I was,” she countered, sharing a grim smile with him.

Noctis stirred at the sound of voices over him. He felt tired, but free of the aches and pains caused not only by Titan’s visions, but also the sympathetic pain he felt in his spine. He hadn’t told anyone, but he was beginning to feel signs of muscle spasms and tingling in his back and legs. It was a mammoth task masking the slight limp in his left leg.

It was all gone, now. Even the distant, gravelly murmuring from the Archaean had disappeared. He felt like he was the only one inside of his head,  _ finally. _

The Prince’s eyes cracked open, revealing rich blue a little darker than Lehko’s. Sie was standing over him, her odd, round little glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Sie?”

“Hey,” she greeted him. “How are you feeling?”

Noctis didn’t answer. His eyes had settled on Lehko. “You’re that guy from chocogram…”

Lehko chuckled - warm and cool at once. “Lehko Habhoka. Sorry to barge in.”

Noctis hummed and shook his head. “No, s’okay,” he reassured him as he sat up. He felt tacky from the fever he’d had that night. “I feel weird. Did something happen last night?”

“The Archaean attempted to enter your mind in your sleep, but was so violent about it that the pain sent you into shock,” Sie reported. “Prompto came and got me just in time. I was forced to used one of my pacts with the Avatars to heal you and silence the Archaean. When we go to the Disc, I’ll have to accompany you directly. You will not be able to hear his words, but I can translate.”

Noctis paled. “Thanks for that. Are you sure you’ll be okay that close? If he’s looking for a fight.”

“We can hold our own,” Lehko nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “Unfortunately, Titan will be aware of our influence. The Astrals don’t take kindly to having their airways tampered with.”

Sie shot Noctis a devil-may-care smile. “We’ve got this. Focus your attention on yourself and your friends. Trust Lehko and I to keep ourselves covered. We’ve handled Astrals before, remember?”

Noctis didn’t look convinced. “Just… don’t get yourself crushed under a boulder, okay?”

“Same goes for you. We’ve got this, yeah?”

A tiny, hopeful smile tugged at the edge of Noctis’s mouth. He nodded once. “Yeah. Are you staying for breakfast?”

Lehko twitched and, if Noctis weren’t so bleary-eyed, he’d see something also twitched beneath his hat. “Breakfast?”

Sie chuckled at him, getting up and giving him a playful punch to the shoulder. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I’m not altogether sure,” he replied, eyes glazing over. “I wonder if that cafe is open yet…”

Noctis hopped out of bed, showing surprising energy so early in the morning. “Nah. Iggy will cook something. Eat with us.”

Lehko cocked an eyebrow. “‘Iggy?’” he snorted, fighting a grin. “How delightful.”

While they left Noctis some privacy to dress, Sie and Lehko returned to the body of the camper to gather up Sie’s armor and equipment and take it all outside. It could be rather noisy, dressing in armor hung with fist-sized lumps of glowing rock, and the others of Noctis’s retinue had yet to wake. Save for Ignis, who was still showering when they returned.

Ardyn was already dressed and outside, loitering far off. He was on the phone and pacing; keeping that carefree, I-have-all-the-advantages-in-the-world swagger. He glanced at them when they appeared, meeting their eyes and dipping into a deep, mocking bow while he spoke into the receiver. 

“Hear what he’s saying?” Sie asked casually as Lehko helped her with snapping in her pauldrons.

“He’s talking to a woman,” Lehko supplied, the picture of feigned ignorance. He snapped the silver cross to her chest. “Talking about acquiring airships.”

_ “Great,”  _ she groaned, holding the portcullis-like armor to her hip while Lehko fastened it in place. It was one of the trickier elements to her armor, as three large stones dangled from the hanging pleats. “Anything about arresting us?”

“No. More about the Prince and his people. Nothing even resembling military influence beyond positioning things for Prince Noctis. He hasn’t mentioned us.”

Sie let out a tiny sigh of relief. “Maybe we’ll be able to slip away, after all.”

“Stay your optimism for now,” Lehko advised. “A fisherman doesn’t toss out his catch when he has two different fish good for his table.”

“You  _ are  _ hungry, aren’t you?”

“I was tempted to eat the blonde one. I like chocobo meat.”

She snorted, giggling as he snapped the jewels and crests to the backs of her gloves, followed by the Tenebraean-white sleeves adorned with gold crosses. “That’s Prompto. He’s a good one. We like him.”

“Message received. What of the others?”

“The big one, Gladiolus, is alright. He already knew who we were before they discovered our Chocogram. Apparently, he followed our antics in Niflheim. He’s trustworthy.”

“Good. Ignis?”

“Suspicious by nature. Serious. But he’s warming up to us. All four of them have thrown themselves in Ardyn’s path whenever he looks like he’s getting too fresh. I wouldn’t mind traveling with them more, after this. They have good hearts.”

He helped her into her boots, lacing and strapping them up. He then took up the many blue belts and started in on wrapping them around her hips and thigh. “Noctis is talking us up to Ignis,” he murmured secretively, his covered ear twitching toward the wall of the caravan. “And Prompto is supporting him. Gladiolus is on the fence, but is willing to let us stick close for the Archaean.”

“Good,” she nodded.

“And Ignis is making breakfast burritos. Wants to get this day over quickly so they can slough off Ardyn.”

“And Ardyn’s conversation?”

“He’s an ass to the woman he’s speaking to, but has cajoled her into helping in flouting the Nifs near the Disc to let us through. And he says he’ll be procuring our vehicles for us after things are said and done.”

Sie’s eyes narrowed on the top of Lehko’s head, rather than at Ardyn. “I don’t like his deal. I can’t get a read on what his intentions are.”

“He’s in for the long con, if you ask me,” he reasoned with a helpless half-shrug. He straightened up, smiling with those dreamy eyes. They were almost the same height, giving him more of an advantage in dodging her horn. “I can summon the Caits, if we need. We can spy that way.”

Sie chewed on her lip and nodded contemplatively. “That may be a good idea. Are you strong enough?”

“It will take from my stores of magic, but I’ll manage.”

“Save it for emergencies, then.”

Lehko finished strapping her in, giving her a clap to the pauldron. “Agreed. How are you faring?”

“Tired,” she replied honestly, rolling her sore shoulder. “Garuda isn’t a kind mistress to summon, even a little.”

Lehko grimaced. “‘Robin red breast in a cage; sends all of Heaven in a rage,’ and all that. How much did she drain you?”

She shrugged her sore shoulder. “Another night or two of good sleep in Dynamis should have me back in fighting form. Right now, any blood pact I call on is going to wind me. Diabolos will be the gentlest.”

“Draw from him, then.” His hand fell to hers - the left, where she always slashed her palm. He cradled it tenderly. “So long as we place the feather, everything will be fine.”

Just then, Prompto emerged with a stack of plates, but stopped short at the sight of Lehko. “Hey, you’re that guy!”

“Always thrilled to be remembered so clearly,” Lehko teased him, smiling in that easy, buttery way that made Prompto clear his throat.

“Yeah, that explains why Iggy wanted an extra plate,” the wiry gunner mused. Sie and Lehko took the plates from him and began setting the tables, while he took in the whole of Lehko’s appearance. “Lehko, right?”

Lehko gave a little  _ mm-hmm.  _ “Lehko Habhoka.”

Listening to his voice, Prompto perked up. “You sound… Tenebraean? Am I right?”

Lehko exchanged glances with Sie before nodding. “Long absconded, I’m afraid. All that’s left of my lineage is my accent. Prompto, yes?”

“That’s me,” Prompto confirmed as Ardyn returned to their line of sight.

Lehko gave Ardyn a little wave of recognition, setting down forks and knives handed to him by Ignis. “Good morning. Ardyn, yes?”

“Why, yes!” Ardyn purred. “How lovely it is to be recognized. And who might you be?”

“Lehko Habhoka,” Lehko replied yet again. He expected to have to do so several more times before he was done with introductions. “Companion to Summoner Sie.”

“Lehko was tending to his own business before he could catch up with me,” Sie explained.

Gladiolus emerged from the camper carrying a tray full of more burritos than they had any business eating. “Mornin’,” he greeted Lehko and, thankfully, didn’t attempt to urge an introduction out of him. He didn’t pretend to need it. “C’mon, all; eat up while they’re still hot.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to say hi to me over at http://insipid-drivel.tumblr.com/ <3


	5. From hemorrhagic to hemorrmagic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a Summoner is sort of disgusting.

They ate in companionable quiet, save for when Ardyn decided the quiet would be beautifully accented by his own voice. A shock to Sie, as she had believed that Ardyn couldn’t speak when his hands were full. Really, she liked hearing him talk. He had a thrilling voice, and every word sounded like a performance (otherwise known as a lie). Suspending her disbelief turned him into as entertaining a figure as videos on her phone.

A shame they had to meet as enemies. It would’ve been nice to get to know him better. Accumulating strange friends was one of her favorite things. She could tell that Lehko was similarly entertained, if a little more guarded than herself.

When the hour came to depart for the Disc, the convoy began again. Apparently, Ardyn was insistent that Noctis drive, despite how he didn’t much want to. A power complex, probably - expressing some sense of dominance over tiny, worthless choices.

Ignis made a noise about their lack of helmets on the Alicorn, but neither listened. Lehko sat behind her and hugged her waist. He perched his chin on her shoulder to better murmur in her ear over the din of the motors ahead of them. The Alicorn’s engine only got loud when they were burning rubber. Which they both wished they could without annoying Ardyn, who further insisted on being at the head of the group.

The drive wasn’t far, which dampened the urge to take off ahead a little. Hard to enjoy the speed of the Alicorn when they had very little distance to cover. Nevertheless, Lehko hugged Sie’s waist tight, and burrowed his nose into the nape of her neck. “Instincts say something bad is coming,” he called.

“Ditto,” she replied, hands gripping the handles tighter. “Something’s wrong. I feel it in my waters.”

The gate to Cauthess was as oppressive as the regime holding claim over it; all towering concrete and heavy, forbidding gates made of black, ugly metal. The earth beneath it was little more than shale and sand. Their respective hackles lifted.

Ardyn pulled up to the gate, angled out of the way for the Regalia to go first. Sie and Lehko overheard Noctis muttering, “Better not be a setup.”

Ardyn scoffed. “Have I given you reason to doubt me?”

Prompto made a noise of distaste. “You don’t really inspire confidence.”

Gladiolus rumbled deep in his chest. “Yeah, not very straightforward.”

As ever, Ardyn easily ignored their complaints and turned his attention to the gate. “Hello!” he shouted. “It’s me! Be so kind as to open up!”

Sie snorted. “I call bullshi-”

The gate roared to life, pulling inexorably open. Prompto’s eyes widened. “Wow, that worked!”

Sie and Lehko couldn’t see Ardyn’s falsely-humble smirk. “I may not look like much, but I do have some influence. Aren’t you glad we came together? Your audience with divinity lies ahead.”

Sie wrinkled her nose. “Remember that one time I stepped in the spiracorn trap?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Lehko muttered, hugging her even tighter.

“You’re leaving?” Prompto asked Ardyn.

Ardyn waved them off dismissively. “I drop you at the Archaean’s open door, and with that, bid you farewell.”

Sie tilted her head so she and Lehko could exchange looks, as if to say, _“For how long, though?”_

They caught Ardyn’s predatory stare as they and the Prince passed through the gate. Idle airships sat still and quiet at the foot of the rock wall to their right, looking like baby birds with gaping beaks demanding to be fed. Lehko sighed. “Just the feather, remember. All other priorities aside.”

“Uh huh.”

They parked some distance to the seat of the Archaean himself and carried on at a slow, careful pace behind Noctis and the others. Their feet cracked against sandstone steps - rough-hewn and hastily laid in ages long past. At the end of their path was the risen tomb of one of Noctis’s ancestors, whose effigy clutched a magicked sword.

“Lucian Kings collect those, don’t they?” Sie asked as they approached the tomb. It was open-air, and seemed to be an overlook before the great meteor. The question was more for conversation’s sake. Her forehead thrummed with the nearby presence of the Astral. “I have a weird feeling about it.”

“It is pretty weird,” Noctis agreed, stepping forward and hovering his hand over the sword held by the tomb. A flash of sapphire light heralded the rising of the blade from its resting place, and held it aloft before their eyes. An instant later, the sword disappeared into Noctis’s chest, and called up the other weapons in  his collection; circling around him in a dance that ended in flares of sapphire glitter.

The earth trembled.

Lehko swallowed tightly. “And so, it begins.”

“Here we go again!” Prompto gasped, remembering all the tremors they themselves had faced.

Gladiolus’s eyes were wide. He stumbled back. “This one’s huge!”

The four men staggered and dropped to the ground, while Sie and Lehko managed to stay upright. Ignis cried, “Get away! Quickly!”

The stone gave way inches in front of Noctis’s feet. The Prince clutched at the side of his head, wincing while quickly stumbling back toward more solid ground.

The ground gave way again. This time, Noctis fell.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” Sie gasped. Noctis was slipping down a steep slope.

Gladiolus leapt to follow him down, reaching out and catching the Prince. “I gotcha!”

Lehko slid down in hot pursuit, dancing easily along the uneven slope to land beside Gladio. He grabbed Noct’s other hand, squeezing hard and giving him an affirming nod. “We’ve got you.”

Gladio pulled hard, using all his strength to help Noctis on even ground. “C’mon, pull yourself up,” he grunted.

Noctis scrambled onto the narrow ledge they’d perched upon, otherwise unscathed. Lehko looked up to Sie and nodded to her, giving her a thumbs-up. “Got him!”

Disregarding her own safety, Sie slid down the slope to join them, landing easily in Lehko’s arms. “All fine?” she asked, looking to Gladio and Noctis. They were panting - winded, but not wounded, and taking a brief reprieve to catch their breath.

Noctis sat up, looking for any sign of Ignis or Prompto. Lehko shook his head. “They’re alright. Focus on the now, Prince.”

As he spoke, the earth shook, and they witnessed the great meteor shift in the valley below. Gladiolus leaned back, his face falling. “What the…?”

The stone rose and rose, until it revealed Titan himself; embedded with crystals and bearing the massive lodestone on his shoulders. He appeared as an enormous man - true to his name - with a savage, ruthless face. He spoke in a deep, all-consuming voice in the language of the Astrals.

Noctis paled, looking to Sie for help.

“He’s hailing us,” she translated. “He’s confused that you’re unable to hear him.”

Noctis craned his head back to study the massive beast. “Goddamn… This is the Archaean?” he wheezed.

“Seems we woke the big guy up,” Gladiolus quipped.

Lehko grabbed Noctis’s shoulder and shook him into looking at him. “ _Focus_. Do not be cowed.”

The Prince was taken aback by Lehko’s sudden pep-talk. “Uh, yeah. I won’t.”

He twitched, shaking his head and grimacing. “He’s trying to tell me something… But what?” he moaned, looking to Sie again for guidance. He could _feel_ Titan’s intent pummeling against the ward keeping him at bay. It felt like his ears needed to pop, hovering on the border between discomfort and outright pain.

“Noct! You okay?” Prompto’s voice echoed from across the chasm. He was waving at them, lines of worry creased deep on his face.

Ignis was with him, and waved as well. “Thank heavens you’re safe! Is there a way back up?”

“No, but there’s a path. Gonna see where it leads,” Noct replied.

Gladio cupped his hands around his mouth. “You two try to get down.”

“Very well,” Ignis agreed, albeit reluctantly. “We’ll look for a way. Be careful, now.”

“You, too!”

Prompto blanched. “What? We’re going where?!”

“This will be fun,” Lehko sighed dramatically. The path they spoke of was little more than a hole in the rock before them, not even wide enough for them to walk side-by-side. When they managed to make it through said hole, they were forced to walk a narrow path along the side of the chasm, which gave way to a steep fall should they trip. Lehko made a point of keeping a firm hold on Sie’s wrist.

The path only got narrower. Rounding a corner, they were faced with a ledge so narrow a single wrong tip at the waist would spell death. Gladiolus sighed, “No room for error, here.”

“No time to chill, either,” Noctis quipped sourly. “Make it quick.”

Sie and Lehko kept their hands linked. The Summoner gave Noctis an encouraging touch to the shoulder. “We’re making good progress. Hang in there.”

Gladiolus went first, followed by the Prince, who scowled and grumbled, “Just want this to be over,” while staring dutifully ahead instead of down. Sie was next in line, and could do nothing more than wish she could help. Alas, she and Lehko had better balance than the others. Too many years in close company with a cat dressed like a man made for many lessons in keeping one’s balance.

The earth shook again, forcing surprised gasps out of everyone. “Tremors…” Gladiolus spat through clenched teeth. “Hang on!”

Which was the perfect moment for Noctis’s head to spin, and for the sensation of Titan’s words to pound against Garuda’s silencing ward. _“Ugh,”_ he moaned. “My head…”

Sie and Lehko exchanged glances. “Pain?” Sie asked.

Gladiolus let out an exasperated huff. “Again? Of all the times… Let’s hurry the hell across.”

“No,” Noctis said, answering the Summoner. “Just… dizzy.”

Lehko frowned. “Not the best time to be dizzy. Stellar.”

Noctis attempted to edge along, but couldn’t help but hiss and grimace. “It feels like my ears are gonna pop, and every time I feel it, I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Noct, you doing alright?” Gladiolus called back.

Sie grimaced. “The ward will hold, but Titan is railing against it. He isn’t even saying anything. Just… screaming. Angry. He’s pissed off that I stopped him from killing you in your sleep.”

“ _Great,”_ Noctis moaned.

Lehko was forced to pull Sie back, firm by the arm, when another tremor nearly knocked her into the pit below. “This is making me miss our first meeting with Fenrir!”

Sie barked out a laugh that withered in her throat. High in the cliff ahead of them, the earth shook, and the stones broke apart and tumbled into the pit down below. Titan’s fist erupted from the rubble, massive fingers grasping at them.

“Hey! Titan!” Noctis cried, drawing some courage from the ward protecting him from the pain. “What’s the big idea?!”

“Save it! Get to solid ground first!” Gladiolus shouted over the din of shattering stone and rocky avalanches. He shuffled as fast as he could along the ledge, feeling his heart in his throat as Titan made another grab toward them.

Noctis felt panic replace courage. “Faster!”

Sie and Lehko were forced to duck, the Archaean’s colossal hand grazing the stone behind them, and knocking dirt and shale onto their heads. Lehko’s grip on her arm was almost painful. “Keep going! I think he senses you!”

“No shit!” Sie yelped, skittering forward as a giant index finger almost caught her by the horn. “Let’s haul some ass!”

“Calm down! I’m going as fast as I can,” Gladiolus sniped, sweat shimmering on his forehead.

Another grab. They could feel the shifting air as Titan’s hand nearly brushed against Noctis’s nose.

Gladiolus looked back. “Almost there,” he reassured them, shuffling to the wider part of the path. He stopped short and grabbed the branch of a petrified tree, looking back and offering Noctis his hand.

“Hurry!” Noctis cried, just as his foot gave way beneath him.

Gladiolus caught him, hold hard enough to leave bruises later, and used the momentum to swing Noctis along and toss him to the safe path. He leapt after him, almost landing on top of him, just in time for the earth to shake and Titan to swipe at them once more.

There was no time left, Lehko decided. Furrowing his brow in fierce concentration, glimmering white and gold lights sparkled around his feet. He grabbed Sie, pulling her close to his side, and pushed them into a running leap that carried them farther than any human could manage. Nevertheless, the magic faded as he and Sie landed in a rough roll.

Sie cried out, the wind leaving her. She landed on her battered shoulder, clutching at it and fighting back tears. “Fuck! God dammit! _Fuck! Fuck!”_ she swore, cursing herself for forgetting to use a potion to deaden the damage.

“What? What is it?!” Lehko called, darting to her and pulling her into his arms. “Did you break it?”

Gladiolus rushed to them, conjuring up a potion from nowhere. He tucked it into Sie’s hand, closed his fist over it, and squeezed hard enough to shatter it.

Lehko flinched at first, until he spied the magical burst that soaked the potion into her skin without need to drink it, and by empowering the effect. “I really need to get myself something like that,” he laughed, elated, as Gladiolus leaned away and allowed Sie to flex and sit up. Lehko was still reluctant to let her go. “Better?”

“Better,” she replied, hopping to her feet and turning toward Noctis. “We’re good. Let’s go!”

Titan turned to face them, his one good eye training on Noctis and Sie.

Gladiolus put himself close to Noctis. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. It’s not like he could kick Titan’s ass from there. “If that’s his welcome, hate to see how he treats intruders,” he sneered with fingers twitching for his weapon.

“You wanna talk? So do I,” Noctis spat rhetorically, getting to his feet with Gladio’s help.

Gladiolus let out a brief laugh. “Glad the feeling’s mutual. Let’s move.”

They were able to carry on in good time, careful to avoid the pitfalls of trembling earth and weak stone. Sie and Lehko did everything they could to make themselves useful, but both felt disheartened at having so little to offer the Prince. They had their own priorities. Their own ends to meet. They were forced to hold themselves back.

They made it to an outcropping before the Archaean which, as Sie said, was what he wanted in the first place. They clamored along the path, keeping close, until Noctis could make it to the edge of the outcropping beneath Titan’s perpetual scowl and piercing, ugly glare.

Sie joined Noctis, shoulders tense as Noctis called out, “Hey! I’m here!”

The Archaean’s lips moved, and a rumbling dialect poured from his mouth.

Noctis flinched, clutching at the side of his head. “I can’t hear him. What’s he saying?”

Titan’s eye slowly panned toward Sie, and _narrowed._

The Summoner returned his glower with a defiant lift of her head. She touched Noctis’s shoulder, squeezing it firm. Nevertheless, Noctis hunched and moaned. “What the hell is it  you want? Quit screwing with my head!”

Sie’s eyes widened. “Oh fuck!” she shouted as Titan balled his fist. “Watch out-!”

Too late. Titan’s fist crunched into the outcropping, shattering it and sending Sie and Noctis tumbling down, and leaving Gladiolus and Lehko to scream after them.

Panicked, Noct drew his weapon and tossed it down to the ground below, warping safely instead of shattering his bones from the fall.

Sie lacked such an ability.

“Got you!” Lehko’s voice filtered through the wind whistling in her ears. The regal feline gave up any illusions of normalcy and leapt from the shattered ledge, tail unraveling, and hat falling away to reveal his ears. White-gold motes of light sparkled around him as he shot through the air and tumbled into Sie’s arms.

He flew, catching Sie before she could hit the ground; flying up into the air to avoid the enormous plumes of dust and dirt erupting from beneath Titan’s feet. The Archaean had risen to his full height, snarling wordlessly and storming toward Noctis.

The Prince’s eyes bulged for many reasons, but Titan took priority. “You serious?!” he scoffed, and turned in the opposite direction. It wasn’t always a bad thing to retreat.

Which was, of course, when Titan decided to stomp Noctis out like a used cigarette.

The Prince drew his blade, feeling a breath of horror in his lungs as the massive foot came down upon him. “Oh man!”

He could swear he was done for. How could he possibly block something that heavy? _How?_

He couldn’t. Were it not for Gladio diving in and knocking him out of the way, it would’ve been over. Finished. Mission over. Luna let down. _Everyone_ let down. Even Sie! And he barely knew her!

Sie cursed, hugging tight to Lehko and looking down upon the two humans below them. “He fucking _stood up.”_

“I know,” Lehko grimaced. “He’s been too weak to do so before…”

“Which means holding back isn’t on the table,” Sie shuddered. “Who do I call on, Lehko? _Who?”_

“Diabolos,” Lehko snapped with finality. “He will see it done.”

Sie nodded firmly, but felt nothing firm inside her. “Set me down. I’ll begin it.”

Lehko was reluctant to let her go, but ascended. There was solid, less-vulnerable ground above, and she would need the proper space to perform the summoning. “Remember, Diabolos is our friend. Hold fast to that bond, Sie.”

With a snap of her fingers, the book on her hip emerged, and so did the quill. Blank pages flew open. She slashed deep into her palm. The quill used blood for ink. Her blood refused to fall, instead hovering in fat drops in the air around them.

Sie closed her eyes and pulled her mouth down into a deep frown. _“Friend of Nightmares, come to me. Diabolos, come to me. Sie pleads with you, O Lord of Dreams. Sie pleads with you, King of Terror. Sie pleads with you, Lord of Dynamis. Sie pleads with you, Emperor of Hell. Sie pleads with you, Father of Somnolence. Sie begs you, O Friend of Phoenix. Phoenix begs you, come forth! Come forth! By blood and covenant! Diabolos! Diabolos! Diabolos!”_

Her horn burst with searing light. Sie’s eyes flew open with black-red fire as a blood-written cipher, held within an intricate summoning circle made of dark runes and letters, rose from the pages of the book and branded the earth beneath her; encircling her feet as Lehko backed out.

The blood hovering around her concentrated and fell, filling the lines of the great circle in the dirt.

Sie gasped. Arcane marks surged from  her bones and scored her flesh beneath her armor. The horn grew brighter.

The sky went black.

She couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. The pain was white-hot; blinding. “L-Lehko!” she gasped. “The… The feather!”

Lehko reached into his coat, removing a black phoenix feather. “I have it. Stay focused, Sie.”

The battle down below had reached a fever pitch. Noctis and Gladio were barely scraping by as they frantically evaded Titan, traveling up the path to where Sie and Lehko stood. Prompto and Ignis trailed behind them, having rejoined them at some point during the chaos. Lehko had hardly been paying attention to what was happening down below.

The sky was black. Blacker than pitch. The Archaean had ceased in his destruction to look skyward - to see what was coming.

Blood was trickling from her eyes and nose. The corners of her mouth. Her arms were outstretched, held fast by invisible chains that bound her to the ritual she had begun.

“What’s going on?! What’s happening?” Noctis asked, voice hoarse from crying out in battle.

Gladio stopped, set his hands on his knees, and panted heavily. “What are you doing? What is this?”

Lehko caught Noctis’s arm before he could try to touch her. “She is summoning a Terrestrial Avatar. You mustn’t interrupt.”

“Holy shit!” Prompto squeaked.

“I have a bad feeling about this…” Ignis muttered, pale as paper.

“She’s bleeding everywhere!” Noctis objected.

“She is offering herself in the name of stopping Titan. Please, just wait. We know what we’re doing,” he countered amiably. “I know it’s frightening. It frightens me every time.”

Dark lightning crackled in the black sky, the color of blood.

The inky blackness parted, and a massive figure erupted forth. [A monstrous being](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/d/d9/FFLToS_Diabolos.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150404181938) \- a monstrous _demon,_ made of clever claws on feet and hands, a tail like a flail, wings like a devil, and a face even more terrifying than Bahamut himself.

 _“Diabolos!”_ Sie screamed, blind to those around her. _“In my name, cast down the Archaean! In my name, protect me!”_

A malicious laugh echoed through the valley. Titan took a step back.

 _“Child…”_ Diabolos spoke, understood by all, and in a voice Noctis had only heard in his deepest, darkest nightmares. _“You have delivered me… Vengeance…”_

The battle that ensued was vicious. Titan could barely counter any of Diabolos’s airborne attacks, and was brought to stagger and scream as black magic tore away his sense of reality and violated his mind. As black magic froze him in an evil sleep full of horrific nightmares. Diabolos took advantage of it.

“Lehko! Now!”

“Right!” Lehko rocketed into the air, black feather in hand. “Diabolos!”

A burst of ugly darkness tore open a hole in Titan’s rocky chest, revealing a heart made of solid crystal. Lehko dove for it, darting in close, before casting the black phoenix feather into the Archaean’s breast.

He flew back before any harm could come to him.

The black feather burst to life, bathing Titan’s heart in black flames that evoked screams so loud and awful Noctis and Gladio had to cover their ears.

Lehko flew back to hover near Sie. “Diabolos! Take your revenge!”

A heart-freezing chuckle echoed through the canyon.

_“Pavor… Nocturnus.”_

An eruption of crimson darkness grew in Diabolos’s clawed hand. He descended to a writhing, thrashing Titan.

Slowly - relishing the torture - Diabolos slid the darkness into Titan’s heart.

With a final scream, the Archaean crumbled beneath the weight of the meteor on his shoulders.

The laughter was nauseating. The air was stifling, for they were beginning to breathe the lifeblood of the fallen god, and the malice of the God of Nightmares.

Noctis was on his knees, wide-eyed and shaking. Gladiolus was only barely on his feet, unblinking and white-knuckling his sword. Prompto had his camera in his hands, but had forgotten to use it, while Ignis watched in grim fascination.

“What… What did you…?” Noctis stammered.

Sie wasn’t paying attention. She was hanging from invisible chains, panting, bleeding, and shaking.

 _“Sie… O Sie… O Evoker… O Summoner… O Heiress of Dynamis…”_ Diabolos drifted close enough to have the humans shrinking and staggering back, but they were not the center of Diabolos’s interest. He reached forth with surprising gentleness and ran the back of a claw along her back. _“O Deliverer of Promises… I release thee from thy bonds. I release thee of thy suffering. I retreat to Dynamis once more, O Conjurer, for the day thy call again.”_

And, just like that, Diabolos ascended into the black sky, taking the darkness with him, and returning sunlight to the canyon once more. Once more for the sun to shine upon the self-entombed deity; igniting the scene for Noctis to look upon in fearful wonder.

Lehko caught Sie before she hit the ground. “Softly, now,” he whispered, uncaring for the blood smearing on  his chest as she staggered. He helped her turn her head, so she could finish expelling fresh blood from her mouth, cough, and whimper.

He ran his fingers through her hair. The horn was hot from the power coalescing in it, but its light had died with the departure of Diabolos. “Easy, easy,” he murmured. “It’s done. We did it. Easy, easy, Sie.”

“Lehko…”

“I know,” he soothed, shifting to scoop her up into his arms with deceptive strength. “Easy, now. You did well. The Somnian is happy. You were perfect.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but had to gurgle on her own blood first. “Th… The… boys…?”

“All fine,” Lehko reassured her, glancing up at the gobsmacked Prince companions. “Just fine.”

“Good…” she wheezed, her eyes beginning to close. “No more… headaches…”

“That’s right,” Lehko nodded. “No more headaches.”

Noctis got up on shaky legs. “What… You just…” he stammered, eyes darting between Lehko and the unfortunate Summoner.

“The price of the blood pact is obvious,” Lehko said, clutching Sie closer to his chest. “To bring a flesh-and-blood Avatar into this world, the cost is flesh, blood, and soul. What you witnessed was the emergence of a god. He came to protect you. Titan was fully determined to kill you all, regardless of your relation to him. Now…”

Lehko canted his head toward Titan. “Do you not have a covenant to collect?”

“And _ears? Tail?”_ Gladiolus interjected.

His ear twitched. “Can we discuss this later? We should leave. Now.”

“He’s right,” Noctis begrudgingly agreed. “We’ve gotta get out of here. The Nifs probably saw that, and Sie needs… She needs…”

“Rest,” Lehko supplied. “There’s nothing to do now but allow her to recuperate on her own. Blood pacts defy any acts of healing.” He jerked his head toward Titan. “Go. Do as you must. We’ll be fine.”

As if the ghost of Titan was ready for revenge, the earth began to shake. The earth shook, and shook, and shook, until Lehko was hovering in the air to spare Sie the jostling. “Go! Now!”

Sie was in a sorry state, but Lehko knew what she could handle. She would live, given enough care. The hemorrhaging wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. She would hurt for awhile, which he would treat with pain medicine, and she would be messy for awhile, which could be fixed with a bath. Lehko held her close and flew downward, following the boys.

He thanked the fallen gods when he found his hat, caught on one of the petrified trees a little way down. It pained him and warmed him at once when Sie cracked her eyes open, saw the hat, and gently helped it on his head. “You’re cute… with the hat on…” she breathed, and promptly passed out.

By the time the Prince collected the covenant from Titan’s remains, the tremors had gotten severe. The boys were staggering and stumbling as places in the earth exploded and spat fire and magma like geysers.

Gladiolus was nearly knocked on his ass when Lehko descended. “Doesn’t get much worse than this!”

“I don’t suppose there’s a chance you can fly us all out of here?” Ignis asked, covering his face from a jet of hot air.

Lehko wrapped his tail around his waist and touched down, doing his best to shield Sie from the heat and ash. “I’m afraid not!” he called over the sound of raging magma. “But we’ll stick with you for now! Sie would be disappointed to wake and find you gone!”

“Very sweet!” Noctis replied glibly. “If we aren’t burned alive first!”

Just in time, a gust of wind stinking of airship fuel washed over them and knocked Prompto clean over. Lehko’s stomach sank, watching as an imperial airship descended on them, hovering above the flames and tremors.

“The empire! Now?” Ignis scoffed, taking a step back. The moaning and roaring of the ship itself was near deafening.

The cargo bay opened up.

Lehko’s heart sank.

Emerging from the darkness of the airship was none other than Ardyn; smug and sweet, smiling serenely at them all as he bent at the waist to call out to them, “Fancy meeting you here!”

“Shit…” Lehko hissed under his breath.

“It occurs to me, I never formally introduced myself,” Ardyn purred like an overdressed cat, speaking only just loud enough to be heard over the cacophony. He brought a hand to his heart. “Izunia. Ardyn Izunia.”

Ignis flinched. “Imperial Chancellor Izunia?”

“At your service! And, more importantly, to your aid. I guarantee your safe passage. Though you’re always welcome to take your chances down there. Buried among the rubble, is it?”

Ignis grimaced, turning to Noctis. “Dying here is not an option. We have no choice, Noct.”

Noctis’s heart sank. “I know,” he answered, the words heavy on his tongue.

Lehko was already moving. There was a chance they could escape, but Sie needed to rest. Soon. Any opportunity to lie down and comfortably sleep was one that needed to be taken. He made a single hop onto the ramp and strode confidently toward Ardyn; azure eyes hard. “Much obliged.”

He brushed by Ardyn and deeper into the hold. There were seats running along either wall, but none were padded, and they were far too narrow for him to safely rest her upon them. The floor would have to do.

“Rather thrashed about, was she?” Ardyn clucked his tongue, eyes hooded with low-burning interest. “To do with that peculiar weather we had not long ago? Or is this the Archaean’s doing?”

Lehko smoothed a rogue braid off of Sie’s cheek. “She will be fine with enough rest.”

“Oh? Have you no potions to spare? A hi-elixir, even? Does the Prince not share his resources with his friends? I’m sure there are some curatives somewhere about this ship…”

“No, thank you,” Lehko replied, showing surprising patience. He moved around to Sie’s head and propped her against his thigh. “We appreciate the reprieve in this ship, however.”

“Well…” Ardyn stroked his chin. “There happens to be a small room with a bed in this here ship. For the co-pilot to use, you know. Perhaps she would be better served there?”

If ever there was a trap to get them away from the Prince and into swift custody, that was it.

Lehko continued to pet Sie’s bloody cheek. His lazy, dreamy smile was a flawless contrast to Ardyn’s. “Being surrounded by talk from friendly voices would keep her mind soothed while she rests,” he dodged, canting his head toward the four approaching silhouettes from down below. “And what would they think if we were carried deeper into the bowels of a Niflheim ship without them?”

Ardyn’s low chortle felt like spiders in the dark. “Fair enough. I wish we could set aside our differences and set mistrust aside and reach higher ground with mutually-assured trust. After all, commandeering an imperial vessel and having nothing to show for it afterward will take a little explaining to my contemporaries.”

“Investigating disconcerting geological and meteorological events in Niflheim territory seems a reasonable excuse,” he evaded, clever as a cat. “It was something shocking, wasn’t it? Leaving it uninvestigated when you were so close would have been irresponsible.”

“Absolutely,” Ardyn agreed, but the dark promise in his eyes wasn’t lost on Lehko.

“Hey,” Gladiolus’s voice echoed over the roar of the engines below the ship, sounding tinny against the metal walls. “We gonna talk about what the hell happened back there?”

“I’d be interested in hearing this, also,” Ardyn agreed, earning himself an acidic glare from the Shield. He held up his hands and smirked.

Prompto sat on the floor next to Noctis. His first line of psychological self defense was going through his camera and confirming that, yes, everything he’d witnessed had happened. “You called the world’s biggest daemon from the damned sky! It _talked!_ Daemons don’t _talk!”_

“It seems that was little more than a hollow assumption,” Ignis remarked, staring at his shoes with his arms over his chest.

“Diabolos is not a _daemon,”_ Lehko refuted.

Ardyn cocked an eyebrow. “We in Niflheim have heard whispers of the Somnian. Whispers in bedtime stories, that is.”

“Fitting, given he is the master of dreams and nightmares,” the feline sighed. He wished Sie was awake to help juggle questions. “Diabolos is the Terrestrial Avatar of Nightmares, and the creator of Dynamis - the realm of dreams.”

“I’ve never heard of any of those things,” Noctis argued, uncertain of how he thought of them. “And what did you do to Titan?”

“Diabolos ceased to exist in Eos many eons ago. Before the starscourge visited this world,” Lehko explained, the warm curve of his palm resting over Sie’s pulse. Slow, but steady. “Dynamis is the realm he constructed for himself when he was cast from the Astral. It is an inverse reflection. A nightmare world. You visit it when your dreams are unusually lucid, be they good or bad. You only see it when your dreaming mind is able to step out of your own thoughts and experiences and cross into the dreamworld.”

“Then how was she able to summon him into Eos? We were all awake. Everything we saw was real. I’ve got pictures to prove it!” Prompto waggled his camera.

“Sie has a blood pact with Diabolos, and is able to freely visit Dynamis without the effort it takes others. She is able to make offerings of blood and spirit to open up a gate to Dynamis and allow Diabolos to temporarily emerge. As for Titan…”

Lehko chewed the answer over. “We expedited your victory. The Archaean flew into a rage upon discovering Sie tampered with his ability to speak into Your Highness’s mind,” he continued, meeting Noctis’s gaze. “Hence the display of fire and brimstone His Grace rescued us from. The earth would’ve opened and swallowed you up before you ever had a chance to escape. The game was rigged against you from the start.”

“How can that be?” Ignis scoffed, having turned to glare at him. “Had the Prince’s mind not been tampered with in the first place-”

“He’s right,” Prompto rose in their defense, rather surprisingly. “Last night, Titan screamed into Noct’s head so loud he went into shock from the pain, right?”

Noctis nodded in time with Lehko, not looking away from the regal feline. “So, it was killing me no matter what.”

“Astrals are seldom fair in their trials,” Ardyn mused quietly. “The price of the covenant isn’t the only price to be paid for dealing with them, if history has anything to say about it.”

“Clearly,” Gladiolus grunted. He was terrified and upset, but there was a degree of concern in his face as he listened to Sie’s ragged breathing. “She gonna make it without a doctor or some curatives?”

“It wouldn’t be fair if the pact could be easily overcome,” Lehko smiled feebly. “A Summoner’s soul is forged in Dynamis as well as Eos, and summoning a Terrestrial Avatar causes damage on either side of the veil. Trying to use curatives on her now would be like trying to put out a fire on the other side of a bulletproof window.”

“What about magic?” Noctis pressed. “Like,  healing magic. She used some of Leviathan’s to help my head to begin with.”

Lehko took a deep breath. The Prince had an admirable heart, but it would seem a demonstration was in order to halt their fussing. With an upturned palm, pale violet light coalesced into ribbons of gossamer healing magic, flowing to and fro like daisies in a spring breeze; eagerly seeking out something to heal.

When he tried to touch Sie with it, a vicious _crack_ of crimson lightning singed his fingers and spoiled the magic, dispersing it into nothing. “You see?” he said with a sympathetic, sad smile. “It is an unfortunate failsafe. If we were able to continue healing her as she was channeling a summon, it would mean keeping her locked in a blood pact indefinitely. Once the power of a pact has burned through all her body has to give naturally, it moves on to her soul.”

“What happens then?” Prompto asked.

“Her soul is destroyed. Torn apart. Like being run through a cheese grater,” said the feline.

“She ain’t gonna live long, huh?” Gladiolus murmured. “A job like that can’t mean she’s gonna see a lot of gray hairs before she goes.”

“Ten more years,” Lehko answered frankly. “Or so we estimate.”

“Ten years?! She can’t be much older than I am!” Noctis scoffed. He looked both insulted and outraged, balling his fists in his knees and flexing burning muscles. He wanted to go to them, but felt glued in place. “Can’t she just _not_ use those pacts? Keep more time that way?”

“Is there something we can do?” Ignis asked, snapping and unsnapping the button on his glove.

“Yeah! We’ll help however we can!” Prompto agreed.

Lehko smiled somberly. “If we still walk the same road in ten years, the greatest help you could give would be in saying goodbye.”

Sie’s watery, frail laugh interrupted the dour conversation. “Airing all of our dirty laundry, are we?”

Lehko startled, looking down and into Sie’s snarky grin. Her teeth were pink. “I figured there wasn’t much point in dodging their questions, after what they saw.”

“Ah, yes! Dia-!” Sie stopped short, sat up so fast she almost took out Lehko’s eye, and hunched forward. She burst into a fit of rough, watery coughs, accented by fat globs of blood dribbling on the corrugated floor.

She gulped in a wet, coppery breath. “I’m alright! We’re good!”

Lehko’s ears flattened beneath his hat. “Go back to sleep, Sie.”

“I’ll sleep in ten years,” she quipped, reorienting herself so she was sitting with her shoulders against the seat on the wall behind her. She faced the boys, looking at them with scleras turned crimson from broken capillaries. “He sent me back, anyhow. Said we’ll be landing soon.”

Ardyn twitched, genuinely surprised, and too slow to mask it to Lehko’s eyes. “Why, yes. We will be beginning our descent soon.”

“Let me steal a little energy, too,” Sie added, glancing to Lehko. “Enough to find a more comfortable place to be comatose.”

“Comatose?” Ignis parroted. “We were lead to understand it was just sleep you needed.”

“Well, yes,” Sie nodded. “But it’s still a coma. I’m gonna need more than just eight hours in a sympathetic hostel to fix all the bananas shit that just happened in my internal organs. Massive hemorrhaging. Feels a little like drinking antifreeze.”

“Y-you’re bleeding!” Prompto gasped at the sight of blood welling in the corner of Sie’s mouth. “Maybe you should lie down or something!”

 _“Yes,_ I agree,” Lehko groused, eyeing Sie. “You’re going to spit up blood all over the nice Chancellor’s ship if you don’t.”

“Hardly a bother,” Ardyn snorted. “Do we not underpay our military for this very reason? It wouldn’t be the first spatter of blood to be found in this vessel.”

“Charming,” Noctis sneered. “Seriously, Sie, you look… kinda messed…”

Ignis reached into his inventory and tossed a small packet of tissues to Lehko. “Best tend to that,” he coughed, tapping high on his cheek.

Sie looked confused, until she realized why she couldn’t really see out of one eye. It was bleeding, both from the eye itself, and the tear duct. Lehko dabbed at it for her, nodding appreciatively toward the advisor. “Thank you.”

“Ah, I’m getting weepy again, am I?” Sie hummed, showing not even the slightest bit of distress.

“You wouldn’t if you settled down and shut your eyes,” Lehko clucked. “Before they clot shut despite you.”

 _“Ugh!”_ Prompto gagged, horror stricken. “Can that even happen?!”

His disgust didn’t stop him from snapping a photo. Sie noticed him and smiled for the shot, revealing bloody teeth. “Send me a copy of that one!”

“Sure… Sure thing,” Prompto shuddered, looking down at the photo, and then pointedly away. “I mean, we’ve seen some gross stuff, but that’s kind of its own style of gross.”

“It doesn’t hurt, if it makes you feel better,” Sie shrugged. “Other spots, yes. Eyes? No. And the blood in my teeth is just ruptured vessels in my gums. Same goes for the nose. Makes me wanna go out for steaks, though. Maybe some blood sausage...”

 _“Ugh! Okay! Stop!”_ Prompto gagged again, curling his toes in his boots and squirming like a centipede was in his pants. “You’re even creepier than that thing that came out of the sky!”

“Diabolos,” Lehko corrected.

“And he’s not as creepy when you get to know him,” Sie added. “He just had more pressing business than making pleasantries when I summoned him. He couldn’t rightly hang out and answer questions when every second that passed was more hemorrhaging for me. Avatars don’t have time to dawdle.”

“You weren’t wrong, though,” Lehko continued. “Sie _is_ creepier than Diabolos.”

She grinned, showing bloodier teeth. “I sure am! I was serious about steaks though. I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi to me at http://insipid-drivel.tumblr.com/ <3


	6. "You should've closed the deal up there, too."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tale of fluff, of fun, of a little something-something, to an emphatic chorus of, "Uh oh."

Sie’s ringtone went off, echoing loudly and startling everyone in the cargo bay. She made a face, fumbling for her phone and looking to Lehko for an explanation. Alas, the feline could offer her nothing, and leaned over her shoulder to see who was calling her.

“No number I know,” Lehko whispered, shrugging.

Sie didn’t have time to balk. She answered. “You’ve got about one or two hours before I’m comatose. Who’s this?”

_“So, you have returned.”_

Sie exchanged looks with Lehko. “I need to take this,” she whispered, rising to her feet.

Ardyn was nice enough to notice her body language and motioned languidly toward the small bathroom deeper into the ship. “Do try not to take long. We’ll be landing soon.”

She waved him off and ducked into the bathroom, the metal door sliding shut with the comforting sound of privacy. She cleared her throat, ducking her head toward the floor and holding the phone tighter to her ear. “I…” she stammered. “I… I have…” she stuttered more. “I have no idea what to say.”

The man on the other end of the line chuckled, running blistering shivers down her spine. _“I’ve been waiting.”_

She swallowed tightly. “Sorry it took so long. It wasn’t time.”

_“Will you come?”_

“Soon.”

_“Oh?”_

She shuffled left and right. The bathroom was too small for her to properly pace. “The Archaean is dead. Did you see?”

_“Yes,”_ he hissed. Her toes curled. _“The Fulgurian next, I imagine.”_

“That’s the plan.”

_“Saving me for last?”_

She flinched, grimacing. “If you’re backing out…”

_“No,”_ he interrupted. _“In fact, I shall meet you soon.”_

“You… you will?”

_“I have a parasite to remove,”_ he replied darkly. _“You will remove it for me. In exchange, I shall cooperate. Help, even. I am not mad enough to bite the hand of healing, no matter the cost.”_

“You know I won’t allow you to suffer.”

_“Nor I, you. Let it be quick.”_

She let out a slow breath through her nose and shut her eyes. “Let it be quick.”

There were several long, tense moments of silence over the phone. Her eyes were bleeding again.

_“What name are you using now?”_

“Sie.”

She heard him snort. _“I liked the other one better.”_

“I don’t remember it.”

_“Shall I tell you?”_

She smirked ruefully. “Not unless you’re screaming it in the throes of passion, dear.”

_“That can be arranged.”_

He was being serious. Her face flushed, and her nose bled. “You’re making my nose bleed,” she laughed weakly, swallowing a shallow mouthful of saliva and blood. “I’m probably going to pass out, soon. Can we continue this later?”

_“Inevitably,”_ he murmured. _“I shall see you soon.”_

He hung up before she could say goodbye. Sie took a moment to wash her face with cold water and regain her bearings before taking up her phone and opening a text to Lehko:

>guess who that was

_Ding!_

>???

She wrote:

>our friend on the inside.

_Ding!_

>he has a phone

It wasn’t a question, which was what made her laugh:

>idfk. he’ll see us soon. he’s still onboard with the plan.

_Ding!_

>careful. hes been sick a long time. we dont know what that does to ur brain

He had a point:

>we’ll just have to be careful, but he said he wants it done. wants to be all there again.

_Ding!_

>ok. come back out. ship touching down soon. ur gonna pass out then

“How do you know me better than I do?” Sie mused to herself, giving herself one more once-over with cold water before exiting the bathroom and returning to the cargo hold. The ship was descending, sending a shockwave of dizziness straight to her head.

She felt the threadbare hold she had on consciousness jerk. Dizziness was too much to deal with. She topped with a gasp, landing straight into Ardyn with a pained moan, made worse by the fact that Ardyn was practically made out of concrete and rebar. He didn’t even flinch when she toppled into him. He caught her fast by the shoulders. “Seems your hold on our world is dwindling fast,” he observed.

She met eyes with him; golden-hazel gleaming in the shadows, while her copper irises glowed brilliantly. She rubbed her eyes, smearing blood on her cheeks. “Yeah… thanks,” she murmured, letting him nudge her back to her feet. “Didn’t mean to fall on you.”

“And here I got my hopes up,” Ardyn quipped, earning him five glowering stares from the men in the hold. Before they could eat him alive, the airship touched down, leaving Gladiolus to catch Sie, and breathe a collective sigh of relief with the others as the cargo bay opened up to the comforting view of Wiz’s chocobo outpost, instead of the oppressive streets of Gralea. Ardyn flicked them away with his wrist. “Off you go, now! Best not keep Lady Lunafreya waiting on your trek to Altissia!”

Sie was unconscious before the airship left the ground. In spite of Lehko’s approach, Gladiolus shook his head and scooped the Summoner into his arms. “The rocks she’s wearing weigh more than she does,” he reasoned. “I’ve got her.”

The seal on Prompto’s internal filter shattered when Ardyn was no longer in sight. “Cat-boys are real! I can’t believe it!” he blurted, forgetting his volume.

Lehko let out a put-upon sigh. Indeed, with Ardyn gone, the boys no longer had to watch what they said. The fact that they did at all was commendable, yet he couldn’t help but feel sad that Ardyn wasn’t around to be the bigger elephant in the room. “ _I_ am real. I can’t say much about any other cat in the world,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.

“Yeah… About that,” Noctis winced, overwhelmed by the urge to ask despite his manners. “You’re… what? A magical shapeshifting cat?”

With nobody nearby, Lehko gave up all semblance of secrecy and took off his hat, unfurled his tail, and bade his pupils to form slits instead of circles. It was obvious in his body language he was feeling standoffish, and his eyes wouldn’t stop straying to Sie, clutched in Gladiolus’s arms. He could hear her breathing evenly, but feared she’d be disturbed if much more excitement overwhelmed their group.

His tail flicked. Prompto snuck a quick picture. Lehko rolled his eyes. “I am Sie’s guardian. I have been since she became the Summoner.”

“Like a witch’s familiar?” Noctis asked.

Lehko hummed in confirmation. “In a manner of speaking. My duty is to remain at Sie’s side until her time is up. I’ve been with her since she was eight years old.”

“Eight?” Gladiolus grunted, looking down at Sie’s lax, sleeping face. “Summoners recruit early, huh?”

“Seems like it…” Noctis agreed, disapproval evident in his eyes.

“Earlier even than a child soldier,” Ignis said, the words grim and sour. “It explains the need for a constant guardian. You must have _raised_ her.”

“I did,” Lehko confirmed, without grief or shame.

“Like Noct and Iggy!” Prompto realized. “You can’t be much older than she is, and Iggy came into the picture to look after Noct the same way!”

The two tacticians matched eyes. Ignis didn’t seem comfortable with the comparison, but didn’t argue. Prompto was right. They were damned near the same, which made Ignis unsteady enough to fold his arms over his chest and adjust his glasses. “Perhaps so.”

Lehko gave a watery smile. “If that’s what makes the most sense.”

“Not like anything makes sense anymore,” Noctis sighed, rubbing his temple. Titan was gone, yet it still felt like he was fixing for a migraine. “Magical-flying-cat-guys, like the ones in Gladio’s books…”

_“Hey,”_ Gladio warned, narrowing his eyes on Noctis. “Not as bad as the posters you had, princess.”

Noctis made a strangled hiss. “Hey! Those were from a game!”

“You still had me pin them up for you, Highness…” Ignis trailed off, pointedly looking away.

“I had the action figures,” Prompto shrugged, shameless as anything, and beaming at Lehko. “It’s a good game! The cat guy has the best attacks, plus the best evasion, _and_ magic, _and_ infinite lives!”

Lehko fluttered his eyes. “I’ve only ever played a few video games. We travel too often to own any consoles or televisions. I think the one we played most recently was called…” He paused, thinking. “...King’s Knight?”

He’d never seen four men give themselves whiplash at once.

Lehko’s ears twitched as he took a half-step back.

“You play King’s Knight?” Noctis asked, doing a piss poor job at hiding the hungry sparkle in his eye.

“Now, I’m uncertain of how to answer,” Lehko leered, ears pinning back flat. Prompto snapped a picture. Lehko ignored it. “But, yes. A little. We sometimes play it as we travel.”

“You can play with us!” Prompto chimed, grinning from ear-to-ear. “It’s a lot more fun the more people you have playing with you! Which role do you play?”

“Scholar,” Lehko replied. “I like being able to switch between white and black magic. Sie plays red mage.”

“Then you need front-line guys!” Prompto cheered. “You can hang out and play with us until Sie wakes up!”

Lehko flinched at that, and so did Ignis. “Prompto,” Ignis said. “We likely do not have the time to wait for her to came around, if what Lehko says is true about her current condition. And we cannot afford to carry her everywhere.”

“Not like I’m noticin’,” Gladiolus snorted. “Girl needs to eat a sandwich. Can’t imagine what she weighs with the armor off.”

A moment of awkward silence washed over them.

Lehko ignored it. “Be that as it may, she needs to be in one place long enough to come ‘round naturally. In the absence of a vehicle, I will likely fly us somewhere.”

“Oh yeah…” Noctis breathed, glancing at Lehko’s feet. “You can fly. I almost forgot.”

“That’s so cool,” Prompto snickered.

“I thought you needed to sit on the witch’s broom to fly,” Gladio teased.

Lehko’s trademark lazy-turned-sultry smirk spread across his lips. “The witch’s broom is currently in Cauthess, so the cat will have to do the flying.”

“Aww…” Prompto sighed, his enthusiasm dwindling. “That’s right… the Alicorn. I really wanted a ride, too!”

“We have other priorities, Prompto,” Ignis further dampened Prompto’s spirits. Lehko could almost swear the boy’s hair was drooping. _Good lord, if ever he imagined a chocobo version of himself…_

The feline rolled his eyes and grinned. Before Prompto could ask what he was doing, he was tucking himself beneath the boy’s arm and hugging him tight to his side. “Keep your hands and feet inside of the magic broom at all times,” he said, and conjured up the familiar pale-gold sparkles.

They began to ascend, first hovering a few inches in the air, before the devil in Lehko took over. He listened to Prompto crooning, “Holy crap! I’m flying! Noct! Check this out!” and started trying to snap photos before his pointed teeth flashed.

He rocketed them into the air, their speed punctuated by Prompto’s surprised squeal.

The remaining boys’ eyes nearly fell out of their heads. “Prompto!” Ignis shouted, the picture of an overly-concerned wet blanket.

“Yeah, Prom! Me next!” Noctis yelled, pumping his fists and grinning wider than he had in days.

“I’ll be damned…” Gladiolus laughed, smiling. They could hear the echoes of Prompto’s delighted screaming and laughing as Lehko tossed him about like a cat’s toy.

A few minutes later, they seemed to be ready to descend, and had even reached an altitude that Prompto would surprise dropping from before… Lehko took off again. Horizontally. Carrying the guffawing Prompto through the air around the outpost so he could get aerial shots for his camera reel.

When they returned for real, Prompto’s hair was a mess, and his cheeks and nose were red from his delighted wailing and the cold wind high in the sky. He couldn’t get his heart to stop hammering, or wipe the smile off his face when Lehko returned to gently set him back down, looking positively like the coeurl that caught the chocobo.

“That was amazing! You guys! You have no idea how amazing that was!” Prompto chattered, wild-eyed and immediately taking his camera to sort through the pictures he’d snapped. “And beautiful! Guys! It’s so pretty up there! _Guys! I got to fly with a fuckin’ cat! Like an airship! Guys!”_

Noctis was laughing. “We saw, Prom.”

“And heard,” Ignis added.

Lehko’s eyes zeroed in on Ignis.

Ignis stiffened. “I would rather not, thank you, Lehko.”

“Come on, Iggy! It’s fun!” Prompto goaded.

“We should be moving on, Noct,” he entreated the Prince who was, very suddenly, not as interested in being the next to fly.

“I agree,” Lehko sighed.

“Thank yo-”

Lehko gave Ignis no time to finish speaking. He leapt forward, tackled the poor advisor, rolled twice, before wrestingling him into his arms. “I think it’s time to move _up!_

“Put me dow- _Noct!”_ Ignis howled as he and Lehko launched into the sky, with poor Ignis left to flail and cling to Lehko as his composure was ripped right out from under him.

“Hah! Got him!” Gladiolus laughed, grinning like a fiend as an Ignis-shaped dot was all that was left of the poor guy. “Hope he don’t get bug guts on his glasses!”

Prompto took as many pictures as he could manage with his hummingbird-fast tapping on the button. “Bet you he only pretends to be mad when they come down.”

“Bet you he comes down with new recipes for cat in mind,” Noctis snorted.

Up above, dear, poor Ignis clutched Lehko tight, absolutely refusing to open his eyes. “You’ve had your laugh. Put me down! Now!”

Lehko was holding them chest-to-chest, as a result of the tumble they’d taken before he could get his claws on him. Ignis had the benefit of having something solid against him, unlike Prompto, who had to lean while Lehko kept a single arm around him. Not that the feline minded their current position. On an average day, he enjoyed any free warmth he could steal. On a day for flying? Even more.

“Don’t be afraid, now,” Lehko purred, soothing and enticing. “I won’t drop you.”

“I am _not_ afraid,” Ignis huffed, but the way he was white-knuckling the back of Lehko’s jacket said differently. “Take us back down!”

“Look, and I will.”

“ _Lehko.”_

“ _Ignis.”_

When Ignis spoke his name, it sounded like a warning. The same kind as when a younger Noctis was teasing him just a little too much, and getting much too near to getting them into trouble in the Citadel.

When Lehko spoke Ignis’s name, it was like a lover; purring, as ever, and tender enough to make Ignis’s already-flushed cheeks darken just a little more. To make matters worse, he’d given Ignis another little squeeze, and _actually_ purred, so as to vibrate the poor man’s chest.

_“Please_ put me down,” Ignis pleaded, eyes still firmly closed.

“It really is beautiful from up here,” Lehko said seductively. “One look - a _good_ look - and I will take you right back down. Slowly.”

Ignis’s fingers were digging into his back. Nope. He wasn’t going to budge. Now, it was a matter of principle. He wouldn’t be teased by a bipedal cat with magical powers. Wouldn’t be cowed by a cat into opening his eyes.

That is, until Lehko closed the distance between them and kissed him solidly on the mouth.

Ignis’s eyes snapped open. He let out a shocked gasp, which Lehko took as an invitation to slot their lips together just a _little_ deeper, but only enough to shock Ignis into keeping his eyes open to the vista around and beneath them.

Indeed, Ignis couldn’t close his eyes. He dug his fingers into Lehko’s back, but still looked. The beauty and wonder of the continent was splayed before them, magnificent in the late afternoon light. He could see the herds of chocobos down below, the entire highway from horizon to horizon. It was as beautiful as Prompto said. _More_ beautiful.

Lehko pulled away. “There, now. As promised…” Ignis felt them slowly drift downward, so as to not upset his stomach. “...Down we go.”

He was red as a rose, face so flushed it practically fogged his glasses. “That was hardly necessary!” he said, chest puffed full of false bravado.

Lehko wasn’t buying it. Grinning like a solicitous paramour, he bumped his nose against Ignis’s and winked. “But you still looked.”

“It hardly counts if it’s by using your wiles!” he argued.

“You haven’t shut your eyes yet, though,” Lehko purred.

“Hard to, when you may just kiss me again!”

“Which is why I’m waiting to see if you _do.”_

“What?!” Ignis stammered. The ride back down felt far, far too slow, and his face felt far, far too flushed for the cold air so high up. “This is hardly appropriate. What would Sie say?”

Lehko cleared his throat. _“‘You should’ve tried to close the deal up there, too,’”_ he said in a perfect copy of Sie’s voice.

Ignis wanted to die.

Lehko started chuckling. “You are too easy to tease, Ignis. Shall I slow down more? It could give you more time to decide if you want to shut your eyes again.”

“If that is your attempt at being charming, you’ve failed utterly,” Ignis snapped…

...And closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

When they landed, Ignis was looking away from Lehko about as loudly as a person could. 

“Not fun, Iggy?” Prompto almost looked upset at giving Ignis a wrongful review.

“It was… fine,” Ignis cleared his throat.

“Wow, your face is red,” Noctis observed, raising an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Isn’t it your turn?” he deflected.

Gladio cocked an eyebrow, too. “Weren’t you just telling us to pack up?” he snooped, narrowing his eyes.

“Must’ve realized how fun it is up there, after all!” Prompto beamed.

Lehko was grinning to himself. “Indeed he did,” he murmured as he came around to stand behind Noctis. He coiled his arms around the Prince’s middle, locking his hands tight, and hugging him to his chest with his chin on his shoulder. “Ready?”

“Would’ve minded a consideration like that for myself,” Ignis grumbled, yet couldn’t find the will to glower at the feline. 

“Let’s do it,” Noctis grinned, his face lighting up like the very first time he’d been strapped into a roller coaster.

Despite his eagerness, Noctis still let out a short, surprised gasp when his feet left the ground. It was one thing to  _ feel  _ like he was flying by warping, but quite another to be… hovering. Drifting higher and higher, suspended by a lithe pair of arms squeezing his ribs. Perhaps there was a  _ moment  _ of hesitation, as everyone had before getting on a fast ride.

And then, they were  _ off.  _ Noctis felt the breath stolen from his lungs as they shot through the air, just as it had been with Ignis. He was giddy and lightheaded, unable to keep himself from crying out in jittery glee as the world became a King’s Knight map far, far below; all almost appearing fake. The air was thin, but not dangerous, and cold enough to make his skin tingle, even with the sun on him.

“Seeing you fight, I think I know something you’ll find fun,” Lehko purred in his ear.

Noctis couldn’t stop looking at the world beneath them. “What’s that?”

“G-forces.”

They were falling. Lehko still had him wrapped up in his arms, but they fell like stones from the underside of an airship.  _ “Woah! Holy shi-!”  _ Noctis cried, until they slowed to a stop, and Lehko oriented them so he was lying upon Lehko’s chest, suspended in the air like a purring hammock… suspended above a low-hanging cloud.

Noctis swiveled his head around, awestruck. Lehko held them above the cloud, keeping so close it felt as if Noct could simply roll over and step out onto it, safe and sound. “Lehko, this is beautiful… You showed Prom this, right?”

Lehko chuckled, warm against the shell of Noctis’s ear. “Not just yet. I’ll do this again sometime, at night, when the moon is full.”

Noctis’s eyes went starry. He hummed, smiling. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“I was thinking, since Ignis has suddenly turned from his plan to have you rushing away so quickly, of proposing a game to you. Want to hear it?”

“Sure,” Noctis said. If he could trust Lehko with flying, then he could trust him with even more death-defying antics.

“I’ll drop you,” Lehko proposed. “And you throw one of your swords at me. When I catch it, warp back into my arms.”

“That is  _ crazy  _ dangerous for more than just me,” Noctis scoffed. “What if I hit you?”

Lehko’s laughter was light and blush-inducing for more than just Ignis. “You won’t.”

They were in the sky for over twenty minutes; Lehko repeatedly allowing Noctis to fall, and catching his sword before he could hit the ground. True to form, Lehko was careful as a cat, and didn’t so much as earn a paper cut from catching the weapons thrown at him. All while Noctis had the time of his life, zooming up and down, left and right, until he was out of breath and shimmering with sweat that rapidly cooled at the altitude they played in.

Noctis immediately flopped down in the soft grass when Lehko dropped him off. His wild grin matched Prompto’s, full of bliss from having a fabulous time for the first time in a long while. Sure, warping could be fun on its own, but through the sky? It unveiled a whole new appreciation for his crystal-given skills, as well as for Lehko. Never once had the regal feline make him feel unsafe. Never once had he dropped the sword, or done anything nefarious with it before Noctis could reach it. He didn’t insinuate how much danger they were truly in, so high in the air.

It was fun. Pure, unadulterated fun.

“Have a good time up there, buddy?” Prompto mirrored Noct’s giddy grin. 

“That was the  _ best,”  _ Noctis replied through a childlike giggle. “I officially like cats now.”

“Excellent,” Lehko chimed, pleased as punch. He had been having just as much fun up there. Normally, he and Sie did the playing in the sky, but hadn’t had much of a chance lately. Preparations for facing the Archaean had consumed  most of their time, ruining their chances at playing.

Lehko smiled wistfully. “I used to do that with Sie when she was a child. She was afraid to let me take her, of course. She relented when I convinced her it would allow her to hear Garuda’s voice. She still thinks I was telling the truth,” he snickered.

Gladio gently set Sie on the most luscious patch of grass he could find nearby. It was dense, set a mere few feet away, and shaded by a tree. Such an arrangement was exactly what Lehko would’ve done, so he made no objections. The Shield’s arms must have tired out, he figured. Otherwise, Lehko would convince himself that Gladiolus was the spawn of Titan.

“You must have some weird child-rearing methods,” Gladiolus remarked with a lazy, happy smirk. Seeing Noct so riddled with excitement and genuine smiles was enough to put him in a much better mood. They were all still caked with dirt and ash from the Archaean, but a little fun in the clouds almost made them forget the whole ordeal. Although, it would probably take another round to get them reconciled with the fact that they all faintly smelled of Ardyn’s cologne. To Lehko, to least. He couldn’t guess if the humans’ noses were keen enough to detect it. Sie nearly made him sneeze from how strong the smell was.

“Weird methods for a weird child,” Lehko shrugged. “How does one properly rear a fledgling Summoner? Actually, a great many of my methods involved warming her up to the Avatars and Astrals. A Summoner too afraid to approach the gods has a difficult time communing with them.”

The feline paced around, stretching his legs and taking in the warm, sweet summer air. Gladiolus seemed to think nothing of it, far too interested in hearing more tidbits about their bizarre life together.

A shame he didn’t have the reflexes of a cat. Otherwise, he would’ve been able to successfully evade Lehko when he body slammed his back and hooked his arms under his armpits. “Don’t think I forgot about you!”

“Oh hell yeah!” Gladio cried, already wild-eyed with excitement when Lehko zipped into the sky and adjusted his hold to keep Gladio firmly secured and safe. “I was starting to think I was too heavy for ya.”

When he brought them to the highest they could safely coast at, Lehko did the same to Gladio as he had done to Noct, by tilting them back and allowing Gladio to rest on his chest. The man was a giant compared to Lehko, who stood only a little taller than the dainty Sie, but he merely needed to summon more lift to compensate. “I may seem small, but I  _ do  _ have the strength to protect Sie when I must.”

“You look like you weigh two gil soaking wet. I’m worried I’d break ya if I tried to hug you.”

Lehko cocked one sandy eyebrow. “You wanted to hug me, did you?”

“Hey, I ain’t feeling any shame for hugging the guy that helped save our asses in Cauthess. Iggy might, but not me. Besides, I like cats.”

Lehko purred and chuckled warmly. “Good to hear it.”

Gladio turned his head to catch Lehko’s eye. “You actually  _ purr?”  _ he asked incredulously

One of his long teeth flashed in an impish smirk. “Of course I do. Cat, remember? When Sie would have nightmares of the Avatars, or of wandering too deeply in Dynamis, I would hold her and purr for her until she calmed down.”

“You’re spilling a lot of beans on that girl,” Gladio observed. “Any particular reason, other than risking her beating your ass?”

“She will die young,” Lehko reasoned, a little more somber. “I would like to make sure she isn’t forgotten. Her only true friends are disgraced gods and the inspiration of a popular anime character. You are the closest we’ve gotten to having real friends in a long time. The unfortunate result of living the life of a vagabond.”

“She won’t be forgotten,” Gladio sighed, trying to be dismissive, but failing spectacularly. “Especially not by us.”

“I hope that’s true,” Lehko replied. He began to lazily drag them through the sky, flipping them over so Gladio was facing down, and forming a supportive cushion of his magic to prevent him from dangling. “Everything we do, we do for the best. I hope you believe that.”

“That a crack about that stunt you pulled with Titan?” Gladio asked, surprisingly observant as he watched the world move beneath them. “That thing you did with his heart. Didn’t look like playing along with any kind of  _ trial  _ Noct was supposed to go through, and you guys didn’t seem like you were talking back much when he was trying to talk to Noct, like you said you would.”

The only reason Gladio wasn’t being more accusatory was because of the exaggerated distance between himself and a grisly death down below. Nevertheless, he persisted in his inquiry. “What the hell are you two up to?”

Lehko took a long breath through his nose, and blew it out through his mouth in a puff of steam. “Have you heard that the magic of the world has dwindled, so that any spell you might attempt to use must be concentrated and thrown? Unless you possess considerable magic power?”

“Yeah?”

“In days long past, magic was as abundant in Eos as air. When the Astrals with the power to breathe magic into motion ruled, reality was mutable. Man could master magic as he could master swordplay.”

“Right… Cut to the chase, here,” Gladio prodded.

“After the conflict that resulted in the destruction of so many Astrals, now Terrestrial Avatars, that magic was lost. Such deities as Diabolos, Fenrir, Carbuncle, and Cait Sith were responsible for feeding Eos its magic. With their removal, the maintenance of it all was left to Bahamut and the whole of the Six, who are  _ elemental  _ beings, who are able to command their elements, but not feed their power into the world at large. Losing those four key Astrals essentially pinched the hose that allowed us to wield magic as they do.”

“Take us lower, I’m cold.”

“Your fault for walking around shirtless.”

“Just get back to the story,” he grumbled. 

“The mag- Uh oh.” Lheko stopped short, but not to deflect. Gladio noticed at the same time he did.

A zu. Flying right at them; keening, with a gnashing beak, and eyes fixed right on what couldn’t have been better bait. It was an immense, nigh-mythical bird large enough to tear an imperial airship open like a tin can, and wanted nothing more than to do the same to  _ them. _

“Now I know what one of Noct’s lures feels like!” Gladio groaned. “You’d better be as good at tactical flying as you are with playing roller coaster! Get us the hell down before we’re bird food!”

“It’s probably been preying on the chocobos in the region!” Lehko called over the whistling wind. He had launched them into a rapid descent, moving so fast Gladio thought he might be sick. “I’m going to drop you off before leading it away! Keep Sie safe!” 

“Got it!” Gladio promised as the trees began to have distinguishable leaves again, and he could see the terror-stricken looks on his friends’ faces. The zu wasn’t far behind them. Its awful, vicious cries made his ears ring. Were they on even ground he’d be able to smell its breath and, were they facing it, he would see the needle-sharp teeth, long as katanas, flashing in its beak as it opened its maw wide and extended its neck toward their feet.

Lehko whirled, putting their backs to the ground before unraveling one arm from around Gladio. The Zu was about to close its mouth on Gladio’s leg when he smelled the distinct stink of ozone. He felt every hair on his body stand on edge, prickling together, and saw Lehko’s arm draped in purple and lavender light crackling and popping from his fingertips. A gold light shone from his palm.

_ “Burst!”  _

Gladio barely recognized the name of the legendary spell before the air turned so electric his eyelashes crackled. Lightning sparkled in Lehko’s eyes, arcing like live wires, before a dozen bolts of lightning exploded from empty air, aiming inward toward the zu’s head and body. The sound was like a hundred thunders rolled into one, and the smell of singed feathers and cooking bird flesh overrode the tang of saccharine ozone. 

The zu dropped, but didn’t die. Lehko took the moment for what it was worth and descended to drop Gladio a few dozen meters from the others, but the battle wasn’t over yet. Sie was still unconscious and left asleep beneath that tree, and the zu’s formidable strength and endurance was enough that, even struck by an  _ actual fucking burst spell _ , she was still in danger.

“Damned impossible to make a kill at altitude!” Lehko swore to himself, sprinting with Gladio to catch up with the other men. “Nothing for the lightning to ground on, so it didn’t stop its heart!” 

“Then why didn’t you use  _ fire?!”  _ Gladio scoffed, breathing hard. He saw the blue flashes of weapons being drawn by his friends, reminding him to draw his own sword. 

“Burst comes faster to me, and it wasn’t as if I had much chance to pick and choose magic while we were being eaten!”

“We can argue later. For now, we have a bird to kill,” Ignis interrupted as, just then, the zu rose to its full height from the shallow crater of toppled trees and shredded earth it had left as it fell. “Aim for any exposed flesh, and strike the head only when it’s unable to snap at you! Prompto, aim for its eyes. Gladio, hamstrings! Noct, see if you can disable its wings!”

Ignis chose to forego the use of his daggers, favoring a spear instead; long, thin, and sharp enough to puncture through thick muscle and bone in search of precious organs and arteries. 

“And if you smell ozone,  _ run!”  _ Lehko added, voice turning commanding and hard.

He exchanged glances with Ignis until the other tactician nodded. “Listen to Lehko!”

The zu was bigger than the one the boys had once fought. Meaner. With brighter, more striking plumage, Lehko guessed it was a male and, if its sheer, death-defying aggression was anything to go by, it was the zu mating season. The thing had likely been searching for a mate when it spotted what it assumed to be an easy meal in the sky.

Now, injured, and hot from its own seasonally-induced viciousness, it wasn’t going to go down easily. Its long neck made it nearly impossible for Noctis to stay on its back long, and its dense plumage made carving through to the base of its wings too slow. He was forced to dart away and warp back until he was red in the face, with only a few drops of blood to show for it.

The bastarding thing made good use of its wings just to spite him. It buffeted its wings, knocking Prompto back several feet as he tried to aim a shot for its eye. Gladio sustained a nasty gash to his chest when the zu flicked back its leg and caught him with its spur - not enough to kill, but the Shield gasped and stumbled back, clutching at a very not-okay amount of blood painting his skin red.

Lehko darted in, pulling Gladio out of the way of another deadly kick and placing his hand over the wound. Lavender, gossamer light coursed down the whole of his arm and coalesced in his hand. It sent Gladio awash with a feeling of wellbeing and warmth as the wound was healed painlessly, and Lehko shoved him back in the fray. “Watch its spurs! They’re meant for disemboweling rival males!” 

“Sonofa-!” Noctis was knocked hard from the zu’s back, landing with a winded gasp against a tree.

If anything was to be gleaned by the wide-eyed look of shock in his eyes, something was wrong. Noctis had felt something in his spine pop and grind, right in the place that had nearly rendered him bound to a wheelchair for life long ago. White-hot, tingling pain and numbness shot down his waist. He couldn’t feel the toes in his left foot.

Lehko’s eyes flashed, seeing the horror in Noct’s eyes when his back struck hard against the tree. Gladio was already breaking away to run to Noct’s side, but Lehko stopped him, crying  _ “Focus!”  _ when the zu aimed another derisive kick toward Gladio’s back.

Gladio managed to duck out of the way just in time. Lehko’s hands bloomed with familiar gossamer light. With no need to approach the Prince from where he was standing, Lehko extended his hand toward him, and the light in his palms shot through the air like friendly breezes and soaked into his skin.

Warmth, and then calm, and then relief. In a matter of seconds, Noctis was on his feet, able to feel all of his toes, and feeling no pain in his back. “Teach me to do that!” he laughed manically, calling his sword back into his hand. “You two are crazy with the stuff you can do-  _ Iggy!” _

In the time they’d spent minding each other, they hadn’t noticed the zu notice  _ Ignis.  _ It reared its long, flexible neck back and snapped its beak down on his shoulder, sinking into his arm and part of his back.

Lehko couldn’t explain it, but he saw red. At the sound of Ignis’s shocked wheeze and gasp, and the dropping of his polearm, Lehko forgot to  _ care  _ about any of his secrets. Lehko forgot to  _ care  _ to keep up his appearance. Lehko forgot to  _ care  _ that shapeshifting was a dead art forgotten long, long ago.

A crackling, ear-splitting roar startled the zu out of its bite. It spat Ignis out like he was nothing but grit between its teeth, and swiveled its head around to so what had to have been the biggest… coeurl? Ever seen.

[The beast was white, with black spots](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0d/45/82/0d4582fe6f7446bfa479046b9ef20381.jpg), and bore the armored face and spine of a coeurl, save for painted black, with eyes solid white. It bore twisting horns from its head; back, draconic claws, and the familiar “whiskers” of a coeurl, with its scorpion-like tips, but bleeding white instead of black. 

The thing had to have been as big as the zu itself. Ignis had no time to try to stagger away when it lunged, ignoring him, and instead slamming into the zu with its teeth sinking into the back of its neck. The snarl it made was blood-curdling. Its whiskers began to lift, and it began to sit upon its haunches as the zu thrashed, screeched, and flailed with wings not strong enough to pull itself out of the grip on its neck. 

Despite the shock, Ignis smelled ozone, and remembered Lehko’s warning.  _ “Run! Get out of its range! It’s using its blaster!” _

“Crap, crap, crap!” Gladio hollered, sprinting back, scooping up Iggy, and bolting as far away as their feet could carry them before lightning began arcing between the coeurl’s whiskers.

“What kind of coeurl is that?!” Prompto panted, wide eyed. 

“I don’t know,” Noctis wheezed, staggering over to Ignis with an elixir in hand. Without curatives, the punctures would’ve killed him. Without that  _ coeurl,  _ the zu would’ve torn his arm completely off.

The flash of colored light from the immense burst of electricity made them see spots, and drop their weapons as electricity sparked from the metal and shocked their fingers. The air smelled of ozone, of burning feathers, and of charred flesh as the lightning flashed  _ on, and on, and on.  _ Until all they could hear was the ear-piercing roaring of lightning on a dying beast. 

When the light faded, there was nothing but a blackened, featherless zu in a ring of smoldering grass and scorched trees. The zu was probably deader than anything Noctis had ever seen, and the coeurl sat regally beside it. 

“Guys… I think we’d better- hey! Where’s Lehko?!” Panic flashed over Prompto’s face.

“I think… that  _ is  _ Lehko,” Noctis replied from around a mouth as dry as sand. 

“Shapeshifting?” Ignis scoffed. “Such a thing hasn’t been heard of in eons!”

“You’d know that, Iggy,” Gladio chuffed, scrubbing his face with his hand. “ _ Gods.” _ He wouldn’t say he was tired, but he was. The adrenaline was wearing off, and dusk was giving way to twilight. In one day, they’d gone from Titan, to  _ this. _ “What did we get ourselves into with these people?”

“A lot,” Noctis answered heavily. “A whole lot.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to give a big shout out to AzureKate for being super goddamned cool and stuff


	7. Written in the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those bedroom eyes aren't just for show, you know

The white coeurl slowly rose to its armored feet, taking a cautious step forward and watching as the boys stiffened and looked fit to run away.

The beast huffed through its nose and shut its eyes. Black blotches, white light, sparks of colorful electricity, and thick fog encircled it. Upon fading, it confirmed Noctis’s assumption. Lehko walked out of the ring of scorched earth, looking just as put-together and everything’s-just-fine as before the zu had even appeared and accosted them.

The shapeshifting cat focused his attention on Ignis; first to his face, and then to his arm and shoulder where the zu had gotten hold of him. “Are you alright?”

Ignis wasn’t sure how to answer, other than to tell the truth. “I am fine. Nothing an elixir couldn’t solve.”

Lehko nodded slowly. “Good,” he breathed, melting into a more serene version of himself, now the threat was taken care of. “Well, it seems dinner is on the table.”

The four of them exchanged looks. “We’re gonna have to salvage what we can fast. It’s getting dark, and daemons will be out soon.”

Prompto looked pale. “Guys, it’s gonna be a bit of a walk to get to anywhere with lights good enough to keep daemons away.”

“Not a problem,” Lehko interjected coolly, going to Sie, who was safe and sound, right where they’d left her. The gems hanging from her armor were glowing warmly in the oncoming darkness - the same color as a haven.

He knelt down and began unclipping some of the heavy stones from the fauld on her hip. He carried them close enough to the zu for them to easily reach, and began embedding them in a rough circle around himself - big enough to be a comfortable haven.

“No way…” Gladio was already catching on, and folded his arms over his bloody chest. Not wounded, but bloody from the wound Lehko had healed. “There’s no way he-”

With the last one in place, Lehko stepped in the center of the circle and summoned up a sphere of holy light. When he shattered it, the light dispersed into brilliant sparkles, causing the stones to burst with the light of a haven - familiar and comforting as any other they’d stopped at.

Lehko’s lip pulled up in that familiar lazy smile. “You really think she was mad enough to carry around useless rocks on her armor?”

“Yes,” Ignis said without missing a beat. 

“You guys don’t exactly scream ‘look at how sane we are,’” Prompto shrugged.

“Agreed,” Gladio nodded.

“Can we just set up camp?” Noctis sighed, feeling exhaustion seeping into his bones. “I’d kind of like to sleep the crazy off now, since daemons aren’t going to eat us.”

Lehko returned to Sie’s side and carried her in his arms to the newly-made pop-up haven. The magic was potent enough that the clear definition of the blessings holding the haven in place were written around its perimeter, giving a comforting border for them to stay safely within. “I’ll see to butchering the bird,” he said while shucking himself out of his coat to roll up under Sie’s head. The leather straps revealed themselves to be merely part of the thing, revealing that the greenish-gold gem fastened to his chest was… part of his chest.

The rest of his skin was marked with thin, elegant tattoos the same color as the gem, familiar to Prompto as being the same style and make as the things that were written in Sie’s book when she used her magic. The tattoos shimmered in the blue light, a different texture to the rest of his skin. 

Lehko removed the knife from his thigh. “Ignis,” he called lazily. “Which cuts do you want?” He waggled his knife in the direction of the zu, eyebrows lifted.

“I want a drumstick!” Prompto blurted, already perky with the promise of  _ that much food. _

“I want the other drumstick,” Noctis snorted, beginning to smile.

Gladio rolled his eyes, occupied with putting up the tent. “Greedy kids… Let the damned cat choose first! He may have gotten us into this, but I’ll let him eat however much he wants for conjuring us dinner  _ and  _ a camp.”

Lehko chuckled. “Since you now know the other  _ me,  _ I don’t feel so inclined to hide it. So, to rephrase my question: What do you want before I eat the rest?”

 

* * *

 

The boys watched in morbid fascination as Lehko devoured the zu. The feline had been generous in his portioning - providing them with prime cuts in such quantities that Ignis knew they’d never be able to eat it all before it went off. Nevertheless, he’d insisted. The trouble they’d gotten into was on his account, he’d said humbly, before taking shape as the great cat again and tucking into the remains of the zu with teeth that could pulverize bone to get to the marrow.

When Lehko began feasting on the bird’s marrow, he stopped, extracted one of its bones, and snapped it in two. He left it near where Ignis was sitting; bloody marrow glistening tantalizingly. The others didn’t understand its value, but Ignis was mid-bite when he got up, muttered to himself about possible recipes, and began extracting as much of it as he could to store for later.

After the zu was left as little more than shattered bones and thoroughly-scoured innards, Lehko returned to his much smaller, friendlier state. He sauntered back to the haven, licking his fingers and looking so sated he was damned near ready to sleep as long as Sie. 

“That uh… That a good dinner, Lehko?” Prompto made a jab at conversation, seeing the cat in a new, more cautious light.

“Excellent. Nothing tastes better than a meal you cook yourself,” he replied dreamily, and lifted himself into the air to hover comfortably next to Ignis. He regarded the cook through the corner of his eye. “Was that enough marrow?”

“More than,” Ignis answered, showing less trepidation than Prompto. Having been gifted some of the rarest ingredients in the world, he was willing to forgive Lehko for being the world’s largest coeurl in not-human skin. “Do you always eat like that?”

“Only when I can,” Lehko replied, propping his arms behind his head on an invisible pillow of magic. His tail dangled just shy of touching the ground, waving to and fro, curling at the tip, as he smiled to himself. “Good game like that is hard to come by when you’re walking city streets. The thrill of eating one’s kill is something humans rarely experience.”

“Here, here,” Gladio agreed, lifting his beer bottle in salute. 

“So, how’d you learn to change into a coeurl?” Noctis asked, having reconciled himself to the insanity that was Sie and Lehko the moment he saw Lehko unzipping the zu’s carcass like a new jacket. Best roll with it. He  _ did  _ feed them, if in the most metal way he’d ever seen. “Or is that a cat-guy thing?”

“Torama,” Lehko corrected him.

“Looked like a coeurl,” Noctis shrugged. “How’d you learn to turn into a coeurl?”

“Highness, make sure you see to that rip in your shirt,” Ignis interjected, having only just noticed a large tear running from beneath the armpit of Noct’s shirt, spanning down to just above his hip.

“I  _ will,  _ Iggy,” Noctis promised, but his attention hadn’t strayed from Lehko. “Is that something you can teach people?”

Lehko chuckled. “It’s old magic that Eos isn’t able to support any longer,” he answered, glancing at Gladio and reminding him of the conversation they’d abandoned in the sky. “I believe it’s possible to learn, if you study in Dynamis, where reality is flexible enough for you to alter  your shape. If you master it there, then you should be able to do it here. Soaking up the latent magic of Dynamis allows you to carry it forth into Eos, but you must revisit Dynamis regularly to maintain the magic in your blood. Otherwise, it’s little more than wearing a threadbare suit in need of regular tailoring.”

“Indeed,  _ Highness,”  _ Ignis chimed in, lifting an eyebrow and gesturing at his own side to yet again remind him of the tear.

Noctis sighed heavily. “Yes,  _ mom,”  _ he drawled, putting his empty plate away and shouldering out of his shirt. He plucked the sewing kit out of the Crystal’s inventory, waving it at Ignis about as obnoxiously as any put-upon young man could. 

“So, how do we get to Dynamis?” Prompto asked eagerly. “I wanna be a chocobo!”

“I am not even close to surprised,” Lehko chortled. “To physically enter Dynamis requires use of a Cavernous Maw.”

“What’s that?” Gladio asked.

“Cavernous Maws are extensions of Atomos, the Avatar of Dimension and Time. Sie is able to utilize a blood pact with it to tear open small gateways into Dynamis using a Maw.”

“So, she could take us with her there?” Noctis wondered, glancing at the slumbering Summoner nearby. Gladio had placed her on one of his extra bedrolls while they ate. 

“We’ve never tried,” Lehko shrugged. “It may be possible, but you would need to ask her. She is more aware of the limitations of Atomos than I am. It is a… complicated Avatar. More like a force of nature.”

“We should ask her when she wakes up!” Prompto reasoned. “If she can take us to that Dyna-place, we could find some really cool stuff!”

“Careful,” Lehko warned. “Dynamis is ruled by Diabolos and the Avatars, and they take protecting their sanctuary very seriously, and so do we. If Sie thinks you should go there with her, then it is by the blessing of Diabolos that you do so. I can’t give you full permission and access. I am merely a retainer responsible for protecting her.  _ She  _ is the greater power, here; no matter how impressive I appear to be.”

Ignis gave Lehko a sympathetic look, which Lehko reciprocated with a put-upon little smile. 

 

* * *

 

 

Lehko helped in cleaning up and readying the camp for bed. Chatter had leveled out into something comfortable and casual with the boys, allowing the regal feline to skulk about, helping with the last chores outside of Ignis’s line of sight. The advisor was oblivious to the little smiles the others directed Lehko’s way. It wasn’t often that someone uncomplainingly did something nice for Iggy. It was easy to take his hard work for granted.

When the others started to make noise about going to sleep, Ignis started, fluttering his eyes in surprise at the immaculate state of the makeshift kitchenette. Lehko had even stolen away with Noctis’s shirt and mended it for him. It was easy to do, when they had gotten embroiled in a game of King’s Knight Lehko had humbly neglected to join in on. 

“It was hardly necessary,” Ignis half-complained, fiddling with his glasses. Lehko had cleaned the grill and tables down to the standards even a chef in a restaurant would approve of. “Why help so much?” he asked out of earshot of the others. “I could have easily managed it. Your duties are to Sie.”

“I know,” Lehko replied, eyeing the others as they crawled into the tent. Gladio had been apologetic about not having room for Sie, but Lehko had waved it off. “I know better than anyone the trial it is to tend to  _ and  _ clean up after to rowdy children. It’s second nature that I handle the mess.”

Ignis frowned, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I don’t believe it’s appropriate. You are not a part of this retinue. You should not feel obliged to-”

Ignis was interrupted by Lehko’s lyrical, genuine laughter. “You really don’t know how to handle a nice gesture, do you?” he asked fondly, blue, feline eyes sparkling from beneath the lazy, floppy blonde hair in his face.

Ignis swallowed tightly at Lehko’s stare - so full of intent. The lopsided grin and slightly-narrowed eyes bearing the raw sex appeal of a rockstar utterly unaware of how seductive he could be. It took Ignis’s mind back to flying in the sky, and the  _ two  _ kisses the cat had stolen. Heat bloomed beneath his collar. He cleared his throat. “It is more the intent behind the gesture. Do know that we cannot afford to pay you many favors. If you expect-”

“Ignis,” the name rolled off the feline’s tongue in a way Ignis never imagined it could. “Has anyone ever told you how lovely you are?”

He flushed pink and reeled back. “This is-”

_ “Hardly appropriate,”  _ Lehko interrupted fondly, cocking his hip to one side and planting his hand on it. “Tell me, with every ounce of honesty you have inside you… why did you shut your eyes the second time?”

Ignis froze, swallowing hard. “I…”

Lehko grinned smugly. “I thought so.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” he snapped, flushing.

“Only because you’re putting them in my head, first.”

“I am not.”

“You are so.”

“I am  _ not.” _

“Shut your eyes again.”

Ignis tripped over himself. “ _ What?” _

Lehko closed the distance between them and hovered in the air, now drifting eye-to-eye with the advisor. He smirked, the low light filtering into his widening pupils and filling them with greenish-gold light. “Close your eyes again.”

Ignis inhaled sharply, stiffening. “I will not,” he hissed, seeming to measure every blink to ensure his eyes didn’t close too long. “Now is not the time to-”

“The others are asleep. The chores are done. There is nothing left to do but sleep, but  _ you  _ don’t seem all that tired. What time but the present?”

“My duties to-”

“And mine, too,” he kept interrupting in ways that kept Ignis from arguing. “But both of our ‘responsibilities’ are asleep and out of our hands. So, you’re presented with a choice: shut your eyes for sleep… or shut your eyes, and keep them closed until I tell you otherwise.”

“ _ Why?”  _

“Because I want to show you something you’ll never see but from me.”

Ignis quieted, looking Lehko over with an air of suspicion… and closed his eyes.

Lehko drifted around to hover at Ignis’s back. “Keep them closed,” he murmured in his ear, forcing the advisor’s skin to tingle, and the hair to lift on the nape of his neck. Lehko pretended not to notice and wrapped his arms around Ignis’s middle, tucked beneath his armpits, and locked his fingers together before lifting up.

“Where are you taking me?” Ignis asked, huffy as a toddler, but keeping his eyes shut. “Don’t take us far. If His Highness-”

“He  _ won’t,”  _ Lehko promised, his voice warm on the shell of Ignis’s ear. He carried them high into the air, but at a pace that kept Ignis from panicking. The man seemed adamant not to admit to being afraid of heights, which Lehko wouldn’t demand he do. He merely carried them up, until the light of the haven was naught but a pinprick in a terrestrial galaxy of lights from cities and towns, compared to the galaxy above them.

When they reached altitude, Lehko gently tilted them back. Ignis hissed and squirmed at it, until he felt the heat of Lehko’s front radiating through his shirt - the feline’s tattooed chest still bare as a small sacrifice for Sie’s comfort. 

He tilted them until the moon filled his eyes. “Alright. Open.”

Ignis cracked his eyes open, and then opened his mouth in a silent gasp.

An infinity of stars and lights from every angle, be it from Eos below, or the heavens above, with silvery moonlight bathing them like a promise of safety. “Oh…”

“The daemons cannot reach you here,” Lehko murmured, hugging him closer. “Eons ago, Fenrir ruled this sky. Only he could ride the nebulae, or perch upon the moon. Cait Sith and Phoenix would fly with him, stealing the echoes of dreams in Diabolos’s wake and reading the stories written in the stars.”

As he spoke, he could feel Ignis gradually relax against him, and trust his weight in the regal feline’s hands. “Is that true?” he asked quietly. “It sounds like a children’s tale.”

“Where do you think children’s tales come from?” Lehko chuckled, making Ignis shift and clear his throat. “Sie doesn’t have the same experiences, but… I remember them. I remember Eos as it was before the meteor, and before the conflict with Bahamut.”

Ignis turned his head, trying to catch a glimpse of Lehko as they floated idly in the stars. Lehko was starry-eyed and dreamy, smiling to himself and batting his eyes; lost in fond memories from a time so long ago Ignis could hardly comprehend it, much less believe it. “Why are you telling this to me?” he settled on the question. “Wouldn’t Noct be better served to learn these things?”

“Because I didn’t share aerial kisses with Noctis,” Lehko answered simply. “And I  _ like  _ you, and would like to share this with you before I am forced to leave. You know as well as I do that our destinies are forged by our wards. Share this with me, won’t you? A little sliver of time stolen away from the world down below.”

He felt Ignis swallow hard, fighting the building sense of wonder and adoration at all he was seeing. “We should go back,” he croaked,  his voice cracking. He was shifting again, heart hammering, and face hot. Lehko wasn’t oblivious to it at all. He could hear Ignis’s heartbeat, and smell his nerves as they sparked. The advisor didn’t know how to handle what he’d been told. What else had he to compare this experience with? 

“We will.”

“You’re… This is madness,” he wheezed. “You aren’t even human, Lehko.”

“All those books and video games the boys down below possess suggest that doesn’t matter,” he quipped wryly.

“Lehko…”

Before Ignis could finish his thought, Lehko gently reoriented them so he was face-to-face with Ignis, holding him securely, and still allowing him to rest on his chest while they lazed about in the moonlight. Lehko’s eyes glittered in the starlight. “Close your eyes, and we’ll stay up here a little while longer. Keep them open, and I’ll take us down.”

Ignis’s breath caught in his lungs. Now unable to hide his face from the inquisitive feline’s studious gaze, the indecision in his eyes shone as bright as the moon itself. What was he supposed to do with a beautiful talking cat that took him on the most amazing ride he’d ever been on? Holding them in gentle peace between gleaming stars and gleaming cities? How was he supposed to believe that this was happening to  _ him? _

He shut his eyes.

But, Ignis was surprised again. The kiss he wasn’t sure he was excited for didn’t come. Instead, [Lehko began to sing in the sweetest, mildest voice he’d ever heard.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPHI3lAd8Ac) A passionate, loving song in a language he’d never heard before. A beautiful language that made the modern languages sound brutish and ugly. Even without knowing the words, the language itself felt evocative enough to not require it. It was a song about love, and about pain. Of loss. Passion and loss.

It made his heart hurt as Lehko’s voice turned to a lilt of a pain and longing. The song was almost a lullaby in the way he sang the words, and Ignis couldn’t help but slump against the feline and hug him close. All while keeping his eyes gently closed.

When the song ended, Ignis took a shaky breath. “What language was that?”

“Mithran,” Lehko replied gently.

“Not a language I’ve heard of. Is it…?”

“My mother tongue, Mithran,” Lehko replied with a melancholy smile that suited his face far too well. “I am the last of my kind. A mithra. We were wiped out so very long ago that not even our ruins exist. I sometimes sing and speak to myself in the old language to keep it alive.”

“I… I am sorry,” Ignis murmured. 

Lehko compensated holding Ignis with his left arm so as to bring his right up. He carded his fingers through Ignis’s hair, searching his face. He had opened his eyes midway through Lehko’s explanation, and now felt himself captivated by Lehko’s blown pupils shining with greenish-gold light.

He tilted his head and, tender as a lamb, pressed the softest of kisses to Ignis’s cheek. “Don’t be sad,” he breathed. “This moment is about  _ now,  _ not  _ then.  _ There are plenty of adventures to go of, and plenty of new languages to learn. Keep your eyes forward, dear Ignis, and the past will be your armor against the future… and I would very much like to see a kiss in mine. What do you think?”

Ignis couldn’t help but softly laugh. “I think I will never see a cat the same way again,” he replied, his face warming from the brush of his lips. 

“Is that a yes?” Lehko purred, slowly grinning.

“Shut your eyes,” Ignis replied enigmatically.

Lehko grinned even wider and fluttered his eyes closed.

Whether Ignis was aware of it or not, he was a  _ good  _ kisser. The moment their lips sealed together, Lehko’s arms and legs were a jumble around him; hugging tight, with even his tail joining in curling around Ignis’s thigh. When Ignis really meant it - really  _ wanted  _ it - his kisses made Lehko purr like an engine. It was  _ wonderful.  _

They were breathing hard in the shallow air, flush-faced, and with hooded eyes and close-grasping hands. “I’ve-” Ignis took a breath, “-never felt my tongue  _ vibrate  _ before.”

Lehko chuckled just as breathlessly. “You’d be amazed at what else I can make  _ vibrrrate,”  _ he purred, rumbling around the word in a dialect Ignis certainly did not recognize, but still made him blush. Hard. 

“Ah, well,” Ignis stammered, looking anywhere but at Lehko. “Perhaps another time.”

“Perhaps so.” Lehko kissed him one more time, quickly, before giving him a little squeeze. “It’s late, and while I’ve slept up here before, I think Noctis would starve to death without his breakfast.”

He puffed a laugh. “Right you are,” he agreed, feeling lightheaded and positively glowing as Lehko began to take them down. It had been a long time since he’d stolen a moment with another. A long time since he’d manage to share illicit kisses with a fancy. How mad a world it was for him to be sharing passionate, breathtaking kisses and honeyed words high in the sky, floating on top of an ancient shapeshifting cat with a silver tongue that could vibrate down his spine.

He held fast to Lehko, taking the liberty of tucking his cold nose and mouth against the crook of the mithra’s neck. He shut his eyes, breathing deep, and feeling none of his fear of heights when he had something like  _ Lehko  _ holding him fast. He was warm and comforting, cheeky, and had been so careful with his sharp teeth that Ignis hadn’t so much as nicked the tip of his tongue. 

They touched down lightly, right in the spot where they’d taken off from. It felt strange seeing Lehko standing at his natural height. He was several inches shorter than Ignis, but so confident in his posture it was easy to forget. Especially when they were in the throes of illicit kisses in the stars.  _ The stars!  _

Sie was still peacefully resting on Gladio’s bedroll, having not leaked blood on it at all. Lehko smiled contently at her, and then at Ignis, and rose to the tips of his toes to steal  _ just one more kiss.  _ “Go on, now,” he murmured. “See to your bed. I’ll be with Sie tonight.”

Ignis nodded, albeit reluctantly. He wouldn’t have minded a little bit of cuddling, now that he was comfortable enough with Lehko to spoon in the sky. “Rest well, then, Lehko,” he said, keeping his voice low so as to not disturb the others.

Lehko smiled and nodded once. “The same to you, Ignis.”

Ignis disappeared into the tent and quickly dressed for bed, while Lehko remained outside, removing Sie’s armor until her bare skin was revealed to the world. She would need a bath soon, and the hand of her body suit needed mending from where she’d cut into it. He tucked her in, and slithered down into the sleeping bag beside her. They were both small enough to comfortably fit in a bag big enough to house Gladio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Reminiscence of the Red Lotus" is a song I'm really fond of, and was listening to as I was writing this scene. I know it's silly, but I figured I'd add a link to it for dramatic effect.


	8. A Flagrant Abuse of Purring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cheshire Cat has a fantastic ass. Just ask Ignis.

Sensitive to light, Lehko woke when the first traces of dawn turned the sky from black to deep blue. He never cared to check the time, only knowing that it was time to get up and do a little more to help around camp. Why not? He and Sie were lucky to have the men around. They were helpful, and welcome company during the long trial. 

Plus, he wanted to ruffle Ignis’s feathers  _ just  _ a little more.

Getting dressed and rummaging through his own stores of food - hidden away, in a tiny pocket of Dynamis he used to store their things - he wrangled the fixings for eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, and even a few oranges. He also produced seasonings, and orange, fiery crystals, and one blue, watery one.

Lehko lamented the loss of the magic he was about to use. Eos was a wonderful place with it.

First, he set out the ingredients for eggs, as well as the plates needed. He organized them so the ingredients for each individual portion were set out on their designated plates, and then placed down one of the fire crystals.

He started with the eggs. Focusing steadily, he held out his hands before the crystal and sent forth a spark of magic to shatter the jewel, unleashing a cloud of fire that scooped up the eggs and fixings. A sharp, quiet whistle emanated from the magic fire, and the ingredients swirled into a blur.

With a flash of light and burst of delicious smells, there appeared a perfectly-folded, seasoned omelette on the first plate. He went on to give the other ingredients and portions the same treatment, with the magic of the crystals enchanting the food so as to keep them perpetually warm and ready to eat, no matter how long Lehko took to cook the remainder of breakfast.

In response to the tantalizing smells, Ignis shifted and sat up, rubbing his eyes and placing his glasses on his nose before shuffling outside.

He blinked and furrowed his brow. Balls of fire, and one ball of floating water, were swirling and flashing with different lights. Lehko was the one standing before them, hands held with a loose, open circle as he fixated on the crystals and their power. When a portion was done, the fire dismissed itself with a quiet roar and flash of light, leaving behind immaculately-cooked food for the oncoming breakfast.

“Good morning,” Lehko greeted him without breaking focus. “I expected you to sleep longer.”

“What are you doing?” Ignis asked, taking a cautious step forward to see the process of Lehko’s bizarre cooking.

“Something else Eos lost: Synthesis,” the mithra answered as a stack of pancakes flopped onto the second plate. “Faster than human cooking. Would you like me to teach you?”

“Is it safe?” Ignis asked straight-up, put off by the floating masses of blistering fire.

“Come here,” Lehko called. The comfortable look on his face suggested everything was fine, but Ignis was unnerved by the strange new display of magic.

Nevertheless, he came around and stood with Lehko, watching as ingredients disappeared, only to reappear as something delicious.

Lehko picked up one of the fire crystals, handing it to Ignis. It was warm to the touch, and felt delicate as spun glass. He could see flames shimmering within its confines, and almost dropped it when the thing let out an audible crackle, as if from a campfire.

The mithra encouraged him to put the crystal down next to the fixings for a stack of pancakes, and then came around to wrap his arms around his waist, and grasp his hands. “Hold your hands like this,” he instructed, forming them into an open circle with the crystal centered in his line of sight. “And then focus. Picture a stack of pancakes, and imagine cooking them from raw to perfect. Keep your eyes open, and…”

Ignis obeyed, ever the curious and diligent student. Before his gobsmacked eyes, the crystal broke, and the fire consumed the ingredients. He reminded himself to imagine himself making pancakes; watching as the batter cooked, flipping them, and relishing putting them down on the plate for Noctis.

A brief  _ woosh!  _ of warm air blew into his messy hair. The flash of light made him flinch and look away. When he looked back, there were pancakes. A generous helping, cooked to perfection.

Lehko stepped around to inspect them. He gave Ignis a thumbs-up. “You’re a natural! And the food won’t get cold, either. “

Ignis blinked rapidly. “It won’t?” he asked, still staring at the pancakes like they would come to life and bite him.

“Crystal magic,” Lehko confirmed. “You can leave it out all day, and it’ll still be hot. Gives time for the others to wake and eat when they’re hungry.”

Ignis continued to stare at the plates. “I feel like I’m dreaming. This… this is so much simpler. I won’t have to pester His Highness to clean up!”

His sharp teeth flashed in a snicker. “Well, indeed. Try a bite. One of them is for you, after all.”

Ignis took up a fork, but looked incredulously to Lehko. “Where do you get these crystals?” he asked, pointing to a water-based one, which Lehko began to use to make orange juice. Again, to Ignis’s wonder.

“Elementals, strong weather, and even the Six used to produce them when they used their magic. Beasts would sometimes hold them, too. Were this my era, you would have many of them from your hunts,” he replied handily, tucking into his own plate.

The food was magnificent; as if having been made on Ignis’s best day of cooking. Despite other morning chores to be done, he couldn’t help but take a seat offered to him by the regal feline and enjoy his breakfast, including a cup of his favorite coffee he made himself, under Lehko’s tutelage. How was he supposed to carry on in life without him and his magic crystals? His thoughts toward cooking would never quite be the same.

“Complain again about chores and I’ll make you seconds,” Lehko warned when Ignis opened his mouth to insist he at least  _ help  _ with things. Lehko was having none of it. Why should he? “I didn’t intend on keeping you up late in the stars with me with the expectation you do early-morning chores afterward,” he huffed, fixing Ignis with a no-nonsense stare as he mended a hole in Prompto’s pants with a deft, practiced hand.

Ignis rolled his eyes. “You speak of it as if it were a date.”

Lehko cocked an eyebrow.

Ignis faltered, his eyes widening. “I hadn’t thought…”

“You aren’t naive, Ignis,” Lehko teased, his scrutinous gaze turning fond. “What you  _ are _ , is shy.”

Ignis ground his teeth, white-knuckling the handle of his coffee mug. “I am  _ not  _ shy.”

“I beg to differ.”

“So do I.”

“What  _ are  _ you, then?” Lehko asked bluntly, no small amount of playful interest in his eyes. “Have you been using your coy little wiles to seduce me, Ignis?”

Ignis turned pink as the coming dawn. “I have done no such thing!” he argued, scandalized. “I was merely… swept up in the moment.”

“Then my devious plan worked,” Lehko crooned triumphantly. 

“What-”

“I  _ did  _ eke out more kisses from you,” he sing-songed. “Whether it was a date or not doesn’t detract from my sense of success. You are, after all, more than worth the effort.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re fantasizing about kissing me again.”

Ignis nearly choked on his coffee. “You are trying to put words in my mouth,  _ again.” _

“Actually, I was more imagining putting my  _ tongue  _ in your mouth,  _ again.” _

That time, he did choke, but not on his coffee. Lehko closed the distance between them with dizzying speed and caught Ignis’s chin between his fingers. Without a care in the world, the mithra kissed him, sweet and sound, and with a tenderness that made Ignis make an unflattering noise in the back of his throat.

“Ah-ha. Knew it.”

They both jumped. Lehko caught Ignis’s chair when it tilted back from the force of Ignis’s surprised jump, but didn’t pretend to separate from the younger tactician. There was hardly any point in playing coy with Gladiolus staring at them from the flap of the tent, the Shield always rising not long after Ignis, especially when there was breakfast to be had.

“Gladio, it’s not-”

“It looks like it is,” Gladio snorted, making a brazen path past them to snag himself a plate. “It was kind of obvious when you two came down from your joy ride in the clouds. You two a thing, now?”

“I’m rather curious about that, myself,” Lehko purred, his signature smile and hooded eyes turning on Ignis and pinning the poor thing in place.

“It was a  _ dalliance,”  _ Ignis settled, adjusting his glasses irritably. 

“I’ll leave the tent up and get the kids busy with something for a couple hours if you need it,” Gladio shrugged plainly. “Hah. See? Same face as when you came out of the clouds,” he snorted, pointing his fork at Ignis and the scarlet creeping up his neck and coloring his face. 

“Ah, well,” Lehko sighed. “Another time. For now, it’s about time I see to Sie,” he said, nodding to the Summoner, still sound asleep in Gladio’s spare bedroll. “Thank you for loaning the sleeping bag, Gladiolus.”

“Anytime,” Gladio replied dismissively; as if the gesture meant much less than it really did.

Lehko crossed the campsite and scooped Sie up in his arms, bedroll and all, and curled her close to his chest. “There’s a stream near here, just over yonder,” he jerked his chin toward the trees past the zu’s carcass. “I’ll be back soon.”

Ignis was left, flustered and befuddled, with his ever-hot coffee still clutched in his hands, untouched.

Gladio chuckled at him and gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat. “S’okay to like him, Iggy. Seems like as good a cat-person as you’re ever gonna meet.”

Ignis fiddled with his glasses some more. “It’s hardly practical.”

“Since when’s a hookup practical?” Gladiolus argued. “Go on and follow him. I’ll hold down the fort when the kids wake up.”

Ignis’s legs tensed, as if demanding he move, but fighting his common sense with every twitch of his toes. “I shouldn’t.”

“Maybe,” Gladio shrugged. “But this could be the last time we see them for awhile. You really wanna blue-ball it that entire time?”

_ “Gladio,”  _ Ignis admonished, voice a bare hiss, as if worried Prompto would hear. He wasn’t concerned about Noctis. Noctis would be asleep until Gladio had to carry him to Altissia like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder.

_ “Iggy,”  _ Gladio rumbled back.

 

* * *

 

 

Regardless of the conclusion to the argument Lehko faintly overheard, the mithra guardian still made a dutiful path to the stream. It was quiet and picturesque, with a couple of wild chocobos milling about for a morning drink and graze for greens and truffles growing by the roots of the nearby trees. They paid him no mind as he set Sie down on the grassy shore, unzipped the sleeping bag from around her, and plucked up a bucket, soaps, and a few towels from his secret inventory in Dynamis.

While Sie hadn’t hemorrhaged onto Gladio’s sleeping bag, the damage caused by summoning Diabolos was clear in the morning light. From the neck down, Sie sported ugly bruises. One giant bruise, technically. The darkest, purplest lines formed the echoes of the marks that had erupted from her skin; crystallized blood barely breaking the surface, tearing out of her on its way. While all of her surface injuries from the summonings disappeared upon the ritual’s completion, the damage beneath her skin remained substantial.

He fetched a bucket of water and tossed a fire crystal in the bottom to heat it. Locked in slumber she may have been; warm water soothed the pain and kept her dreams peaceful. Cutting corners while caring for her in one of her states of torpor wasn’t an option. 

He washed the sweat, dirt, blood, and grime from her body with a well-practiced hand, undaunted by her nakedness. Having been her only caregiver since she was a child, her body was no mystery, and she had no sense of shame with him. When they were in the wilds, where the only people for miles were them, she didn’t bat an eye at bathing with him, or just lazing in the nude when it was too hot for armor and clothing.

A little bit of magic helped in washing her hair. He wouldn’t douse her head in the stream, and he wouldn’t simply let her hair remain dirty and oily. Once done with that step, he combed a fragrant oil into her hair, made up of ingredients that Eos didn’t know anymore. The smell was meant to be soothing and inspire peaceful sleep. When she was little and afraid of nightmares, he would leave drops of it on her pillow. 

He braided her hair back, and then reached into his inventory for a handful of foreign herbs, a small bowl, and a water crystal. With a little synthesis, he created his own secret salve for healing bruises and easing pain. 

Lehko draped a towel over her before beginning to spread the salve. He didn’t massage it in, as that would merely aggravate the bruises. It was meant to sit idle and soak in naturally.

“Gladiolus finally wear you down?” he called to an approaching Ignis, who wasn’t nearly as quiet as he thought he was.

Ignis stopped mid-step, just as Lehko came into sight by the stream. “He threatened to tell Noct and Prompto if I didn’t ‘at least spend an hour out there,’” he sighed.

Lehko chuckled warmly as he smoothed the salve over the expanse of Sie’s chest. “I’m nearly done here,” he said without looking up. “Just applying an ointment.”

Ignis’s eyes softened. He hadn’t seen the state of her body yet. With her only covered by a simple towel for the sake of her modesty (which she hardly cared about, but Ignis would), he saw how her skin had gone completely purple and mottled greenish-yellow. “Sie…”

“The bruises will fade in a day or two, with proper tending,” Lehko said. “The salve is my own recipe. I can give you a jar, if you’d like. It won’t save your life, but it will keep a bad bruise from aching without the need to waste a potion.”

Ignis nodded, finding talk of medicine and curatives more grounding than talk of kisses and flirtation. “I would, thank you. You make it yourself, you said?”

“One of many byproducts of taking care of a rambunctious child,” he nodded, spreading the salve up her thigh. “Something I’m sure you empathize with,” he added, peering at him from the corner of his eye and smirking conspiratorially. 

Ignis let out a small groan. “Oh yes, I do. Tending His Highness’s wounds became a regular occasion when we were children, finding ways of sneaking out of the Citadel.”

“This one was much the same,” Lehko nodded toward Sie  as he tended to her other leg. “Always coming home with scrapes and bruises from trying to sneak  her way into the Full Moon Fountain without being eaten by the beasts lurking around it.”

Ignis approached and sat down on a wide river rock, but only after dusting away the sand covering it. He had already dressed and seen to his hair. “Full Moon Fountain?”

“Fenrir’s lair,” Lehko elaborated. “She had it in her head that she wanted to forge her pact with him before she turned sixteen.”

“Did she succeed?”

“At twelve, by convincing Carbuncle to help her navigate the Toraimarai Canal without being caught by the creatures inhabiting it. I was practically tearing my fur out when I returned from fetching groceries and found her gone. Just as I was about to entreat Diabolos to help me find her, she returned, riding on the great beast’s back and showing off her freshly-cut palm.”

Finishing applying the medicated salve, Lehko extended his arm and reached into his inventory - appearing like he had just shoved his hand into a waiting maw of darkness - to procure a change of clothes for her. Namely, a [comfortable green doublet of varying hues](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/8/8f/Evoker%27s_Attire_Set.JPG/revision/latest?cb=20070420152323), with orange lacing down the front, details of a loosely-woven braid down either arm, and a comfortable black shirt beneath it to cover her neck and hide the bruises.

The doublet came with a comfortable pair of green pants with details to match the sleeves of the doublet. It all looked as if someone had taken ceremonial attire and made them suitable as sleepwear. 

“Not as elegant as her usual attire,” Lehko said, mostly to himself. “But it is woven from thread and fabric that helps soften the impact of multiple blood pacts. Good for sleep.”

“You possess an inventory of your own?” Ignis asked, eyebrows lifting.

“Merely an ability to access my things in Dynamis,” Lehko shrugged, slipping a pair of green socks on Sie’s feet before sliding on a comfortable-looking pair of light, orange boots with slight curves at the tips.

With little consideration for modesty, Lehko got up, slid off his ankle boots, divested himself of his jewelry, and squirmed out of his pants. “Now, for me to smell less offensive,” he remarked, and boldly waded into the cold stream with little complaint for the temperature, and little consideration for how intently Ignis was staring at his feet.

“Ah, if you require privacy-”

“Hm? Oh. Yes. Modesty,” he sighed, sounding truly weary. “I always thought of it more like advertising.”

Ignis made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “You needn’t think of it as anything, as I’m not looking,” he choked out. He wished he’d remembered his coffee. At least he’d have something to fiddle with… besides the obvious.

“You know, if you  _ joined  _ me, the water is too cold for much to be worth blushing over…”

“I am quite fine where I am, thank you!”

Lehko regarded him over his shoulders and shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you do smell rather… ripe.”

If flirting hadn’t made Ignis red, being called smelly did. “I can once you’ve finished, thank you,” he croaked.

“What do you think would happen if you  _ did  _ join me, Ignis?”

The way Lehko said his name always made him shiver. He swallowed around a rock in his throat and stumbled over an answer. Worse still, he could  _ feel  _ Lehko’s stare.

He let out a slow sigh, like a leaking balloon. “I am well out of practice.”

Lehko smiled to himself. “How long’s it been?”

“Four years or so.”

Lehko laughed and, for several heartbreaking seconds, Ignis thought it was  _ at  _ him. But, before he could get up, or stammer some sort of half-baked excuse, Lehko was shaking the water out of his hair and padding back up onto the riverbank. “I have you beat by several centuries.”

_ “Centuries?”  _ Ignis couldn’t help himself. His head shot up despite his brain, and he got a full,  _ royal  _ view of the ancient mithra, from ears to tail.

He turned scarlet. Lehko had a body suited to the skin-tight pants he wore, and Ignis was discovering that those tattoos on his chest extended much, much lower.

He was just about to shut his eyes, until Lehko smirked and swooped in, caught his chin, and kissed him sweet as a tender sweetheart; freely-given, and with no expectations. It was a fond, fun thing, and Ignis could feel the way Lehko was smiling. He could feel how the cold river water on Lehko’s lips turned warm, and could taste the faint hints of his breakfast when he dared to tilt his head and steal one deeper, more meaningful kiss.

Ignis hadn’t even noticed his eyes had closed until Lehko stopped and put a bare few centimeters between them, unwilling to leave easy reach of more kisses. “I thought you may need a little help in closing your eyes,” he whispered, a ghost of a laugh on his tongue.

“That didn’t even resemble clever,” Ignis huffed.

 

“You know, I never had a taste for coffee, until I tasted it from you,” Lehko flirted mercilessly.

Ignis made an unflattering noise and darted his eyes away. “Yes, well, I’d not yet brushed my teeth when Gladio banished me here. I should have remembered my toothbrush.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Lehko murmured, so close now that Ignis could feel the mithra’s lips brush his with every word. “You taste like you this way.” He stole another kiss, just to prove his point, and slyly coiled his arms around Ignis’s waist to reel him in closer.  

Perhaps Lehko was right about stealing moments where they could. What better a day was there than one that started with a gorgeous man cooking for  _ him,  _ cleaning for  _ him,  _ kissing him in all manner of ways, flirting with him in a way that reminded him he  _ was  _ attractive. Lehko had mastered the art of solicitously teasing him out of his shell long enough to see the sky for the stars, and to feel no fear of the cosmos. Showed him that the heavens had no fear of the dark the way Eos did.

He could get used to the way Lehko treated him, just like he was getting used to the feeling of his buttons being undone while the crafty cat nipped at his lips enough to make him gasp, and nibbled at his neck to make him  _ moan.  _ Lehko was even neatly folding Ignis’s shirt as he peeled it from his shoulders, rather than leaving it rumpled on the stone beneath him.

Lehko stole his gloves, next, all while expertly kissing, licking, and nibbling at erogenous zones Ignis didn’t even know he had. The regal feline left love bites where they wouldn’t be seen by the others, and purred while Ignis shivered. 

“Ignis,” Lehko whispered, crafty fingers unbuckling his belt and pulling it free in one steady, smooth sweep of his arm. “Stay awhile.”

His heart shot into his throat, and his blood shot to his groin. It hadn’t been a question. Lehko was already working open the button and fly on his trousers, hot fingertips beginning to tickle parts of him nobody else had touched in a long time. He let out a strangled gasp amidst the unbidden groans and sighs. He’d been sitting uselessly before Lehko, trembling and melting with every rumbling purr, and every graze of Lehko’s smooth palms on his naked skin. 

Ignis couldn’t find his tongue to answer Lehko, but merely brought his hands to Lehko’s shoulders as the mithra helped him out of his shoes, set beside the neatly-folded stack of clothing. His trousers joined the rest, and Ignis was too busy trembling and praying to all of Lehko’s dead gods for more to think on the fact he hadn’t yet bathed.

“Lehk- _ oh,”  _ Ignis gasped. Lehko’s fingers were around his length, with his tongue already gently lapping at a bead of precum; tip of his tongue laving over the tip of his cock with the most delicious warmth. Lehko planted a tender kiss at the tip, and then slowly sucked it into his mouth with a soft, sweet moan; blue eyes slipping shut as he tasted him.

Ignis tangled his fingers in Lehko’s wheat-blonde hair, still wet from the river. His black ears stood forward and at attention, listening carefully to every sound Ignis made with every swirl of his tongue, and every centimeter of his cock he slid into his mouth. His pace was slow, and his fingers took a lazy rhythm at pumping and squeezing what he hadn’t yet taken in.

His thighs were twitching. He crossed his ankles behind Lehko’s back, unconsciously pulling the mithra closer in the hope he would swallow more of him, or start to bob his head and sigh around him.  _ “Gods, Lehko,”  _ Ignis groaned, his fingers straying to stroke the soft fur covering his ears.

Lehko’s tail flicked rapidly, to and fro. His chest began to vibrate into a deep purr, which traveled up his throat, and vibrated along Ignis’s cock. Just like he had teased him about not long ago.

Ignis threw back his head and let out a strangled moan. Lehko took him to the hilt, his throat relaxing to draw him deeper and surround all of him in that thick, heady vibration. The mithra swallowed at the same time he purred.  _ “Holy Six, Lehko!”  _ he almost shouted, fingers curling into a hard grip on his hair, with his thumbs absently stroking his ears to encourage more of that wonderful, wonderful purring.

Lehko brought a hand down to cup Ignis’s balls, saving them from touching cold, uncomfortable stone. By then, Ignis was seeing stars, and unable to put together coherent sentences. He was shaking, half-mad from such an unfairly-skilled lover between his legs, swallowing, purring, and sucking without even taking a moment to breathe. 

When he came, the world went white, and his ears began to ring. Ignis threw back his head and cried out loud enough to disturb a flock of birds in the nearby trees. Lehko didn’t stop sucking or purring until he swallowed the last dregs of his climax, and only then did he lift himself up, lap him clean, and press an affectionate kiss to the tip of his cock.

Ignis’s focus returned in time to see Lehko licking his lips and wiping his chin. “That was…” he croaked, his voice raw from crying out more times than he could recall. “Lehko, I…”

Lehko stood and moved to press a light kiss to Ignis’s lips. “Good?”

He let out a breathy laugh and nodded, looking almost pained as he flopped back on the stone beneath him. “I’ve never had anything that good,” he breathed, staring up at the morning sky and wondering if he was really just in that dreamworld Sie spoke of. “It almost didn’t feel real…”

“Then, I think it bears repeating,” Lehko purred once more, kissing the corner of Ignis’s mouth and carding his fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “If you want, that is.”

“I think I could be  _ purr _ suaded.”

It took a moment for Lehko to absorb it, but when he did, he couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly and place kisses over the little live bites he’d left on Ignis’s chest and stomach. “I would not part from you, if it were an option,” he sighed, sliding his hand up and down Ignis’s side while resting his lips against his stomach. “Perhaps, when the world spins properly on its axis, we poor retainers would have our destinies in our own hands”

Ignis lazily threaded his fingers through Lehko’s hair, smiling when he’d bump his head into his palm for touching his ear. Lightly kneading it with his thumb and forefinger resulted in a  _ very  _ vocally purring mithra crawling on top of him, grinning like a satisfied fool despite having taken no pleasure, himself. He was hard against Ignis’s thigh, but showed no need to rush, or even any desire to continue. He lazed by kissing Ignis’s neck and jaw. 

Ignis couldn’t help a breathy sigh. At the rate Lehko was going, he’d be hard again, and they’d spend all morning right on that rock. 

Not that Lehko would mind. His mistress was nearby, sleeping the world away.

They kissed again, and again, and again, until he  _ was  _ hard again, and they were reduced to a tangle of arms and legs, plus one tail. To hell with the consequences. Gladio could take the blame, this time.

At last, it was Lehko’s turn to be flushed and lost for breath. His lips were red and tender, and his sharp pupils had blown wide and black. His tail had a loose grip around Ignis’s ankle, demanding with all  _ five  _ limbs that they finish what they started.

“I don’t care if your prince is kept waiting,” Lehko panted, peppering Ignis’s neck with more kisses and bites. “I swear, I will die if I don’t have you.”

“Then we are in agreement,” Ignis breathed back, shuddering beneath those precise, perfect touches.

“Top or bottom?”

“I like how we have things now.”

Lehko nodded, and extended his hand into a newly-opened portal just beside them. He bit his lip and rummaged a moment, before producing a jar of the same salve he had used on Sie. When he unscrewed the lid, they were awash with an extremely pleasant, herbaceous smell Ignis wouldn’t mind wearing. 

Lehko dredged his fingers in it. It was slightly waxy, and turned extremely slick as Lehko warmed it with his fingers, not unlike coconut oil. He gently stroked Ignis’s rim, coating him with some of the salve, and revealing how wonderful it was for tender skin.

He bit his lip, expecting the hint of a burn when Lehko pressed a finger inside him… to find none. He felt shocked with soothing warmth that made him relax all the more. He closed his eyes and let out a sharp breath. “Good… Definitely spare me a jar…”

Lehko’s laugh was throaty and deep, laced with a familiar purr that sent tingles down Ignis’s spine. “I will,” he promised, dipping a second finger in.

Again, he felt no burn or discomfort. He felt the mild stretch, but the salve made it feel as if he were already more than prepared. 

Lehko still kept slow and careful. He thrust his fingers in and out, minding Ignis with all care as he curled his fingers  _ just so,  _ and…

Ignis arched his back and gasped.  _ “Lehko!” _

“There we are,” Lehko purred, kissing Ignis to swallow his next moan from his devious fingers. Ignis scarcely noticed the third finger, even as his knuckles stretched him open with each twist of Lehko’s wrist. “Are you ready, Ignis?”

Ignis shuddered, near to falling to pieces already. So much for having greater longevity from coming once already. He nodded eagerly and held tight to Lehko’s shoulders. “ _ Yes,  _ please, Lehko,” he hissed.

Lehko scooped a heap of salve into his hand and finally touched himself; stroking his own length to saturate it. He bit his lip, forcing himself to let go and favor the better prize. Ignis already had his legs wrapped around his waist, and his arms over his shoulders.  _ Gods,  _ if there ever was a perfect way to break his fast, it was with the magnificent creature below him.

He cherished Ignis’s cheek in his palm as he made the first languid thrust forward, pressing in to the root with barely a pinch. It made Ignis gasp and arch, while Lehko groaned deep in his throat and took a moment to  _ breathe.  _ Even if the salve helped any discomfort, the stretch and shock of pleasure demanded appreciation.  _ “Perrrfect,  _ Ignis,” Lehko moaned, sounding like Ignis had never heard before. “You’re  _ perrrfect.” _

He didn’t know why, but Lehko’s words coupled with the feel of him inside him drew a raw, unfiltered  moan from his mouth. Ignis hugged Lehko’s narrow waist tighter with his thighs, drawing him in closer; deeper. 

Then, he felt something strange. A pulsing sensation, crackling inside him, that translated outward to wherever he was touching the strange mithra. It felt like… “...Electricity?” Ignis gasped with the first delicious, heart-stopping thrust.

“I won’t hurt you. Just a trick,” Lehko explained with a wry little grin muddled by lust and pleasure. 

With the next thrust, the electric pulses struck Ignis’s prostate.

Ignis nearly fainted.

The poor, besotted man cried out; gasping and arching his back clean off the stone. Every electric throb made the head of his cock weep, and made him see sparkles when he shut his eyes. Lehko still had one hand on his cheek, which Ignis held like it was the only thing keeping him alive.  _ “Gods, Lehko!”  _ he cried, the a sharp snap of his hips striking that button with a stronger  _ pop  _ of electricity.

Lehko couldn’t help but salivate and groan like a starving coeurl. He flung himself forward and tangled his fingers with Ignis’s, pinning his hand by his head and squeezing. More electricity crackled wherever they touched, driving them into an electric kiss that made Ignis’s eyes water.

He rutted into Ignis, growling deep in his throat and plunging his hand between them. Lightning-charged fingertips began to stroke along Ignis’s cock; palming him, squeezing, and slowly pumping up and down. 

Ignis screamed into Lehko’s hungry mouth, writhing like a snake beneath the sun. Tears were leaking freely from the corners of his eyes. He knew the rough surface of the rock beneath him was scraping up his back, but his body had no desire to pay attention. Every thrust against his prostate, and every touch to his cock had him biting back orgasm after orgasm; stunting them all.

It was insane. His pleasure-addled brain took him back to opening the camper door to an azure-eyed young man with strange stripes on his face, staring inquisitively up at him. He thought of having breakfast made for him, chores done for him, of kisses beneath the moon without a moment’s fear of heights or daemons. He thought of the zu, and the way he had seen Lehko’s face contort at the sight of him wounded, followed by the emergence of a legendary beast, blind with fury, that later delicately served him more marrow than he could ever need, and enough food to feed the Prince until they could make it back to Lestallum.

His lust-addled brain saw the fierce sense of duty that sometimes flashed in Lehko’s eyes for his mistress, and how much it resembled Ignis’s. His mind took him back to talking of the life of an adviser and retainer. Took him back to fairy tales turned real from ages long gone by. Took him back to begrudgingly closing his eyes that second time, because he really did  _ want  _ those kisses, and only Lehko had that peculiar kind of charismatic tenacity to make him admit it.

He was drenched in sweat, his mouth dry from panting, and raw from a thousand electric kisses. Above him, Lehko was split open and wracked with ecstasy, his mouth wrapping around Ignis’s name over and over, too quiet for him to hear. His tail was around his ankle, surprisingly soft and strong at once.

He was clawing trenches in Lehko’s back, and he knew it. The mithra didn’t care. All he cared about was  _ Ignis. Ignis, Ignis, Ignis. “By Altana, Ignis!”  _ Lehko gave one final, rumbling cry as he buried himself inside him, hard crackles of electricity heralding the hot bloom of his climax as deep inside of Ignis as he could reach.

That was it. Ignis buried his face in the crook of Lehko’s neck and  _ bit down.  _ His wail of pleasure was muffled by Lehko’s skin, while he shook and shivered as he came; arching and flexing with each hard pulse of his cock. Each one that bled into another, and another, and another. Ignis was  _ sobbing  _ from the overwhelming pleasure, as the electricity and sheer presence of Lehko ripped a stronger orgasm out of him than any he’d ever had before. He almost thought it wouldn’t stop, as pleasure edged on the border of torture.

When it was over, and when his mind wasn’t lost in the clouds, Ignis let out a sore moan and went utterly lax against Lehko, who was panting into his neck and purring faintly.

It took a long while for them to catch their breath, and even longer for them to feel inclined to move. Foggy-eyed, Lehko tenderly lapped away at the sweat beading on Ignis’s shoulder and collar bones, tongue dipping into the hollow of his throat, and teeth nibbling at his neck between dreamy kisses meant to gently urge Ignis back down to reality after such a hard orgasm.

Ignis groaned, shutting his eyes to the morning sun. He wanted to go back to bed. Back to bed with Lehko, to take inspiration from the mithra and demand a lazy day. Distantly, Ignis knew the feline would be a terrible influence on him. 

Lehko pulled out gently, much to Ignis’s chagrin. There was an intense sort of sensuality to just  _ staying.  _ There was a finality to it that, in that moment, Ignis hated. He groaned and scowled, grabbing at Lehko and pulling him back in when he tried to lean back.

Lehko chuckled and settled back down, peppering Ignis’s neck and chest with more kisses. “Not too much, was it?”

“I think I may have made up for those four years of celibacy with that,” Ignis replied flatly, closing his eyes and toying with Lehko’s hair. 

“I do enjoy a good deed well done,” Lehko purred, pressing a kiss tantalizingly close to Ignis’s lips. “Allow me one more indulgence?”

Ignis leaned back to look at him. “What sort of indulgence?”

Lehko smiled sweetly. “Allow me to wash away the mess I made of you? I have warm water.”

At the mention of warm water, Ignis’s eyes flashed. It was rare they had access to warm water, out in the wilderness. They could boil water, wait for it to cool off enough to touch, and then bathe with it, but it was far from a proper shower, and was far more effort than it was worth.

The hunger Lehko saw in Ignis’s eyes was answer enough. Using more of that shockingly deceptive strength, the mithra scooped Ignis up into his arms and carried him to where near Sie was resting, placing him down on soft, comfortable grass. “Stay right there,” he murmured, giving his shoulder a little squeeze.

Ignis watched as Lehko fetched a bucket of water, more soap, and a couple of fire crystals. All it took was dropping one of them into a freshly-full bucket to soon have warm, steaming water. Next, in absence of Ignis’s soaps, Lehko volunteered some of his own to use.

Having someone bathe him was a new level of intimacy Ignis had never experienced before. Lehko kissed him lightly before using a soft cloth to wash him with soap that smelled clean, and faintly like apples. Lehko went to such depths as to wash between his toes, as well as the soles of his feet. He was  _ so damned gentle  _ that Ignis nearly dozed off, were it not for the breeze that cooled the warm water left on his skin.

Ignis was about ready to get up to go finish washing his hair in the stream when Lehko stopped him. “Trust me, and relax,” he purred in that voice that Ignis just couldn’t deny anymore. He shifted so Ignis could comfortably lie in his lap, face up, while Lehko trickled warm water through his hair. The way he massaged his scalp got him half-hard all over again, and helpless to disguise it.

Lehko said nothing of it, instead smiling as he began massaging shampoo into his hair and stroking his scalp some more. The shampoo smelled of some kind of medicinal herbs; pleasant and herbaceous. “What scent is that?” he asked.

“I make these soaps myself. A hobby, of sorts, especially with all the traveling we do with little in the way of toiletries,” Lehko replied while thumbing soap away from Ignis’s eye. “Mine is made from a blend of wild plants native to my homeland. Makes one’s hair healthier, as well as more attractive to other mithra.”

Ignis couldn’t help but chuckle as Lehko tilted the water bucket to pour warm water through his hair. “And this is a sign of favor from you?”

“Merely added incentive to have my face close to yours,” Lehko snickered, warming his hands with a conditioning serum and carding his fingers through Ignis’s hair to spread it. It smelled of the same herbs as the shampoo, save for a few more spices he didn’t recognize. “Leave that in before you style it. Reduces the damage some styling products cause.”

“You are very knowledgeable,” Ignis observed, not relishing sitting up again. At least Lehko came around behind him with a towel warmed in the sun, draping it over his shoulders. Strange, to feel such casual intimacy from a man he’d only known three days. 

“Sie went through a bit of a  _ phase,  _ when she was younger,” Lehko explained fondly. “She was popular for the color of her hair, and went to excesses trying to make it as appealing as possible. With the length she keeps it at, taking care of it was a priority of mine.”

“I believe I can relate,” Ignis nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. He thought of getting dressed, but Lehko was already collecting his clothes and laying out more soap and a water crystal.

Before Ignis could ask him to hold off - his clothes being quite expensive and valuable to him - the synthesis had begun. And, just as quickly, the synthesis was over. Lehko went one more round with a fire crystal and a gentle starch, and Ignis’s clothes were as finely washed and pressed as if they’d come from a professional cleaner.

Grinning, Lheko handed Ignis’s clothes over. “Loathe as I am to see less of you, your fashion sense  _ is  _ very striking. It’s part of why I like you.”

In spite of everything, Ignis felt a touch bashful. He fiddled with his glasses and looked away, even though Lehko knew he was merely trying to disguise his overbearing humility. 

Lehko leaned in and stole a kiss. “Go on ahead. I’m going to give myself another rinse and carry Sie back to camp.”

“I apologize for-”

Lehko raised a hand, palm out, to stop Ignis. “No apologizing for that.  _ That  _ was quite incredible, don’t you think?”

It took him a moment, but Ignis gradually smiled and nodded. “It was.”

A kiss to the temple. “Good. Now, off with you. I won’t be but a moment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's the reason for the explicit rating <3 I didn't plan on Lehko and Ignis having a thing, but Lehko is a very purrsuasive little shit.


	9. A Little Birdie Told Me...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of only they made tampons for tear ducts.

As Lehko washed himself and did a spot of laundry, Sie’s slumbering mind did not sit idle.

In Dynamis, a friend awaited her. 

She stood upon a rocky overhang, surrounded by white sand, and looking out over a vast blue sea. The place was rife with raptors, manticores, cockatrices, and the walking bones of travelers long fallen. It was an echo of a place once known as Cape Terrigan, now unknown in Eos, but once the secret home of the divine lady now before her.

[Garuda](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/3/3a/Garuda_Concept.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/230?cb=20120811005250), looking down upon her with the face and body of a woman, with feathers for hair, claws for hands and feet, and great, green wings, matching the plumage of the little songbird she once was long, long ago. Her coloring matched the evoker’s attire Lehko had dressed her in; green, with red-orange tattoos branding her from neck to navel. Her eyes were ghastly red, pinpricked with white pupils, and a mask of feathers concealing her cheeks and brow, leading to a long, whip-like plait of emerald down, bound back with orange wrappings.

Sie dipped into a humble kneel. “My Lady Mother.”

A long, vicious claw extended from Garuda’s thin arm, scraping with tantalized interest along Sie’s horn.  _ “O worthy evoker; Seat of Phoenix.” _

Sie lifted her head, but remained kneeling. “How may I aid you, Garuda?”

Garuda shook her head slowly.  _ “O Favorite of Diabolos; Favorite of Mine, I call upon thee to deliver a grave, solemn warning.” _

At that, Sie stood, her face twisting into a worried frown. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

_ “O, Mine Own Brother - Our Brother, whom thou once adored…”  _ Garuda trailed off.

“Ifrit?” Sie guessed.

Garuda nodded slowly.  _ “O Child; Seat of Phoenix, thou hast been deceived.” _

Panic settled in her chest. “Howso, My Lady?” she asked, visibly paling with every breath of sweet, crisp air that followed Garuda and kept her perpetually aloft.

_ “O Child, Our Brother no longer breathes. We are too late, O Seat of Phoenix; Little Friend of Fallen. Beloved Ifrit is no more. What remains is living corruption making play at His former majesty.” _

Immediately, there were tears, and Sie was shaking her head in denial. “That can’t be,” she wheezed, no amount of divine wind enough to stop her from feeling like she was being suffocated from the inside. “He only just spoke to me recently. He called me, telling me that he was prepared to undergo the rebirthing!”

_ “O, Sweet Child of Dynamis,”  _ Garuda’s soft, lyrical voice - always sounding as if carried on the wind - did little to soothe her. The Goddess of the Sky extended a claw and gently petted her back, as Diabolos had done before he departed from vanquishing Titan.  _ “Sweet Princess of Ours, it is Our Beloved Phoenix that is coveted by the corruption. A trap, Dearest Daughter, laid cleverly before thy feet, feeding upon thy soft heart for we Fallen Gods.” _

“Mother, I don’t understand, how could… But we  _ planned  _ to see to his rebirth!”

_ “Thy cannot breathe life to a body long devoured, and a mind long conquered, Dear Seat of Phoenix,”  _ Garuda sighed. Even her resting face bordered on savage, but there was sorrow in her hellish eyes as she continued to soothe and coo over the weeping Sie.

She had doubled up and given herself wholly to crying, now. Garuda did not lie. Never to her. Garuda was a master of secrets, but had remained candid with her since she was a child demanding her favor. Even if Garuda was impulsive and prone to fits of rage - especially involving Leviathan - she had been motherly to Sie many times. She was the only female Terrestrial Avatar in Dynamis, and the only mother she’d ever known.

Sie sniffled pathetically, wiping her face on her sleeve and balling up. Garuda hovered low, cupping the curve of her back with her claw and rubbing tenderly.  _ “O Child; Dearest Daughter, Our Brother was precious to thee, this I know.” _

“He was my friend - and lover, that one time,” she sobbed. “My only other friend in Eos not locked here. He…”

She broke down into another fit of wordless, nonsensical sobbing and blubbering. It was all Garuda could do to gather her up in her arms and cherish her to her chest, curl around her, and give her a safe, loving place to grieve.

_ “O Child,”  _ Garuda sighed, heart aching for the most beloved child Dynamis had ever known. A child whose time was nearly up.  _ “Mourn, yet deliver Our Brother peace. Go forth and answer the summons of the imposter. Deliver vengeance on Our behalf. Snuff out the false flame, Dearest Child, in Our name. Speak forth to the new, ugly world that vengeance is nigh.” _

Despite the deadly words, Garuda was calm and gentle, still petting Sie as she wept against her bare breast. 

Garuda shifted, and called upon a glimmer of magic to summon something to her.  _ “O Seat of Phoenix; O Beloved,”  _ she soothed, bringing up a small object she reclaimed from the aether, and placing it before Sie, balancing it on her own chest.

Sie lifted her head, eyes clouded with heartbroken tears. There, presented to her, was a fragment of a horn; a tip, black as obsidian, and bearing the ghost of flames within it.

A piece of Ifrit’s horn.

_ “O Child, take with thee this final token of Our Brother,”  _ Garuda urged as Sie took the horn in hand. It measured about the length from the tip of her middle finger to the heel of her hand, and only thick as about three of her fingers at its widest.

It was hot to hold - almost scalding, but Sie didn’t care. It smelled of the Ifrit she knew, and flickered with the passion he had once delivered to the world so very long ago. Even if her Ifrit was dead, the horn was alive. The horn brought her memories of an eighteenth birthday, too drunk to be useful when he called for her company.

She kissed it, holding the horn to her lips no matter how much it stung. Her tears sizzled when they touched it. “I will never go anywhere without it,” she swore to herself, to Garuda, and to Ifrit. Ifrit, her friend who once reveled in passion and sensuality. Her friend who gave her his spark of flame before any other Astral would. Her friend with a wit that made her laugh until she cried. Her friend whom she loved, and cherished in a special place in her heart that she never revealed. That she never had the courage to reveal.

It struck her like a knife to the heart. Sie squeezed her eyes shut, forcing out a few more tears teetering on the edge of falling. 

“I loved him.”

Garuda’s sorrowful sigh pushed away the stray hair from her face, and stoked the flames within the last vestige of the  _ true  _ Ifrit. “ _ O, Child…” _

Sie squeezed the horn until her hand bled, but didn’t let go. She buried her face in Garuda’s chest and wept, wept,  _ wept. _

 

* * *

 

 

“Something’s wrong.”

The four young men looked up at Lehko, who was kneeling over the still-slumbering Sie. The regal feline studied the woman’s face, watching in shock as bloody tears streaked down her shifting, changing face; gone from peaceful slumber, to the grips of what Lehko guessed was an awful, awful nightmare.

“What’s up?” Gladio was the first to ask, feeling a surge of Shield’s instincts to protect, even though Sie wasn’t one of them.

Lehko shook his head as the men got up to see. Sie was beginning to toss and turn, murmuring nonsensically and breathing hard and quick. Lehko could hear how her heart was absolutely hammering in her chest, and could smell the pain in her blood.

“Hey, is she supposed to do that?” Prompto asked, fidgeting with his bracelets at the sight of fresh blood oozing from the woman’s eyes.

Lehko shook his head, turning pale. “No. She must be in Dynamis.”

“Can she be woken?” Ignis asked, standing suspiciously close to Lehko. Of course, Gladio knew exactly what they’d gotten up to by the stream. He’d given it his blessing, after all, while Noctis and Prompto were vaguely suspicious of how Ignis and Lehko kept hovering close together, and chattering intimately as they shared in menial chores and talked of soap making and cooking with something called “synthesis.”

“Dangerous to do so,” Lehko sighed, fussing and fretting, but having nothing to do but to watch over her as she began to sob in her sleep, nearly choking on blood that spattered from her lungs. Gladio was quick enough to roll her on her side, so as to prevent her drowning in her own blood. Lehko looked to him appreciatively, and then back to Sie. “Dynamis is the realm of nightmares. While she is well respected and liked there by the Terrestrial Avatars, it may be that something has upset her enough to carry over into her physical body.”

Her sobbing was audible now, and ugly in a way that made Lehko bristle. He looked to Noctis, raw nerves and meaning in his blue cat’s eyes. “Can I trust you with her body while I go to Dynamis to find her?”

Noctis nodded, feeling useless already. “Yeah. We’ve got it covered. Just… get her out of there. I’m about to have nightmares about her nightmares.”

Lehko’s chortle was hollow and too breathy. “You all know what to do.”

For the first time, they were able to see how Lehko traversed the Dreamworld of Dynamis, as Lehko made no secret of it. The regal feline merely straightened up, turned in the direction of the sunset, and a seam opened in space before him. It started off as something similar to the seam in the back of Ignis’s tailored jacket, only to open into a yawning, black abyss.

Instead of stepping through it, a cloud of black dust oozed forth from the aether to cover Lehko up, not unlike digitizing him into pixels. Once completely overtaken with a display of complete peace, Lehko’s shadow was drawn into the yawning darkness, which closed up behind him.

Prompto blinked and peered into the screen of his camera. He’d snapped pictures every second the display took place… “Hey!” he blurted, wide-eyed. “These pictures came out all screwed up!”

Noctis moved to look over his shoulder. Just as he’d said, the photos he’d tried to take of Lehko had turned out grainy and full of corruptions that, gods forbid, could’ve outright corrupted the entire file he kept those photos on. Luckily, Prompto was meticulous in organizing all of his photos into individual files, but the young gunner had taken thousands of photographs of Lehko and Sie since they’d first met. 

“...Well,  _ that  _ isn’t creepy,” Noctis sneered, wrinkling his nose. “Didn’t we see a movie with that kind of thing in it once?”

Prompto bobbed his head, mouth practically sewn shut.

“I like ‘em, but it rubs me the wrong way that they’re tellin’ us about shit nobody’s ever heard of,” Gladio growled with his arms tightly fixed over his chest, mouth turned down, brow furrowed. He glanced over at Ignis, feeling no small amount of concern for his friend’s choice in booty calls. “You know the guy better than us, Iggy. What do you think?”

“You do?”

“Huh?”  Prompto and Noctis both said at the same time.

Ignis adjusted his collar and cleared his throat. “Lehko and I have been friendly recently, yes.”

_ “Friendly,”  _ Noctis parroted, raising one bemused eyebrow.

_ “Ooh,”  _ Prompto positively purred. “You and the cat guy, Iggy?”

“Is it true what they say about barbs on their-”

_ “No,”  _ Ignis snapped, feeling color creeping up from under his collar. “And, I assure you, if Lehko has given me any cause for concern, I would have informed you all.”

“He at least good to ya?” Gladio quipped tactlessly.

“Seriously? No -  _ seriously?”  _ Noctis gasped, flabbergasted. “You and the-”

“Suffice it to say he was very compelling.”

_ “Riiiight,”  _ Prompto warbled, grinning like a fiend. “Compelled your brains out, did he?”

_ “Prompto!” _

“And that’s a yes.” Prompto couldn’t resist snapping a shot of Ignis’s face.

“Not like we can tease much,” Gladio shrugged. “It’s not as if Noct is making any secrets about the girl.”

“I am not!”

“Just remember Altissia, buddy,” Prompto patted Noctis sympathetically. “And with my heart belonging to Cindy, it looks like Gladio wins!”

“Damn right.”

“This is hardly inappropriate, given she’s lying right over there,” Ignis sighed, eyes cast to the still-weeping, sleeping woman. She seemed to be settling down in terms of thrashing and moaning, but her bloody tears continued to streak down her face, and her face was turned down with an obvious expression of grief. “Hopefully Lehko will locate her in this dreamworld and see to whatever is upsetting her.”

“It better not be about Ardyn,” Noctis spat with sudden venom. “I don’t like the way those two interact.”

“Well, considering he’s the Chancellor of effing  _ Niflheim,”  _ Prompto said, “and they’re the terrorists that blew up a lot of his stuff, they’ve gotta be terrified a batch full of MTs are gonna drop out of the sky for some payback.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Gladio asserted.

“Right,” Noctis nodded.

“Not while we share company,” Ignis agreed. “But, regrettable as it is, we must remember our priorities, Noct. Lady Lunafreya must come first.”

Noctis hesitated. “...Yeah, right,” he breathed, his conviction waning faintly. No matter what, his priorities had to be getting to Luna. With the desperate need to collect the covenants and the weapons of his ancestors, she was the most important of all their goals. Sie and Lehko were useful, too, but they had already expressed their own priorities. He respected them for that, but it was hard to imagine parting from them for long. They’d more than pulled their weight, both with Titan, and around camp. Hell’s bells; Lehko had even done his dishes  _ and  _ patched his clothes so Ignis didn’t have to ride him about it.

They would be missed, without doubt. It was hard to find people that were really devoted to helping nowadays. In such a slippery world, good friends needed to be kept where they can.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sie?” Lehko’s voice carried with it dense ripples, dashing away the sticky darkness.

He stood within a great stone tower, playing host to the former centerpiece of a great federation.

Windurst. The war had taken him there, too long ago for anyone or anything to recall. While little Sie had been born long after its death, he had brought her to its memory in Dynamis; to[ a sunken city amidst narrow moss and stone passageways](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/e/ee/Windurst-Waters-Wartime.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20101118012401), of canals and channels, beneath an immense tower playing host to an immense tree.

When he’d shown it to her, she loved it there, and lamented she could never see it in its former glory. So, in a world of dreams, he had moved her into [Heaven’s Tower](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/KInYAIzE1cw/hqdefault.jpg), wherein once a race of diminutive people - now long extinct and long forgotten - divined the stars in the heavens. He had moved Sie into the highest apartments in the tower, just below the roots of the Great Star Tree.

In his distant memories, he remembered placing her there. The little girl had possessed no name she recalled, for hers was a sad childhood of loss and desperate scrabbling for survival until Phoenix had called to her.

He could smell the sweet pollen of the Great Star Tree, and the massive water lilies in the canals down below. In Dynamis, they produced a pollen to light the way when, in reality, it had glowed only at night.

He could hear her weeping beyond the door to the Star Sybil’s chambers. He knocked gently, making colors ripple to life beneath his knuckles. 

“Lehko…” he heard her blubber, sniffling hard enough to hurt her sinuses.

He took that as an invitation to push his way beyond a door that, countless years ago, required extensive permission for him to even look upon. Behind him, he stood in the [chamber wherein the Star Sybil once divined the stars](https://i.imgur.com/gzTXEEm.png); peering down into a starry abyss from a platform resembling the sun.

He pushed his way inside. Just beyond the circular entryway, up a set of short steps, as where the Star Sibyl once held court with the select few permitted to meet with her in person. While it hardly made for a bed, Sie sat curled up in it, fetal, and clutching something in her bloody fist while she wept. Her tears were clear in Dynamis.

“Shanriri,” he breathed the name as reverently as a prayer. “You are crying so hard we can see it in Eos.”

_ “Its name isn’t Eos!”  _ she snapped, so loud the chamber was drenched in its former color and light, and seemed too afraid of her wrath to revert back to its darkness. 

“...Vana’diel,” he sighed, his ears pinning back as he strode up the steps to stand at the foot of the Star Sibyl’s former throne. “Please tell me, what’s wrong?” He knelt down and began stroking her shin. “What’s that you have?”

She’d been clutching it to her chest. Turning it out, Ifrit’s horn shimmered with smooth, inner fires despite the blood she’d caked on it. “Garuda called me,” she said, gingerly offering the horn for Lehko to see.

He took the horn piece, biting back a hiss. It was surprisingly hot, even for him, with fire-tempered hands. “What is it, Shanriri?”

“The last piece of Ifrit,” she sniffed, eyes bloodshot and nose red. “Garuda told me… She told me…” Her voice was thick. “...Ifrit is no more.”

Lehko’s heart sank. He handed the horn back to her and crawled onto the small throne to pull her into his lap. “Howso? I thought he called you?”

“No.” She shook her head, sniffling again. “The starscourge has already devoured him, and is wearing his face. There is nothing but that horn left of him. Garuda gave it to me.”

Lehko let out a helpless sigh, petting her hair and kissing her head. “Was she certain?”

Sie - Shanriri - nodded feebly. “We are too late. Our friend is gone. And I… I never got to…”

He already knew. Lehko knew everything. “Tell him how you felt.”

She nodded hard enough to hurt her head, scrunched up, and leaned on him. He couldn’t see her lip quiver, but heard the helpless whimper in the back of her throat. “We waited too long, Lehko. We waited too long, and we lost him.  _ I  _ lost him.”

“We needed to find Alexander,” Lehko sighed, knowing it was a flimsy excuse on his part. Alexander could’ve waited. “I am sorry Shanriri. It’s my fault that we didn’t take more reprieves to Vana’diel.”

She stuffed her face in his chest and shook her head. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered, voice muffled. “It’s… It’s that  _ disease!  _ That damned curse upon the world! It came while we were gone and now it’s ruined everything!”

Lehko peppered the crown of her head with comforting kisses, rubbing her back as Garuda had done. “It will be eradicated, sweet Shanriri. I swear, we will see it done. Phoenix can destroy more than just Bahamut.”

“I only have one soul to give, Lehko…”

“Phoenix alone can see it done,” he promised. “The price you must pay extends only to the Avatars, remember? Phoenix is strong. He has now seen the destruction this plague has wrought. You  _ know  _ he wouldn’t tolerate it once he is seated on the Astral Throne. Perhaps you will never see it complete, but you should rest assured in knowing that everything will be alright in your wake. There will be no more suffering following your legacy.”

“For Ifrit…” she shuddered.

“For Ifrit,” he swore, smoothing back her hair. “For my brother, and for your heart.”

Lehko pressed one more kiss to the crown of her head, thanking the Avatars her weeping was slowing. “When we return to the waking world, how about we have the horn set in a necklace or charm? So you may carry him, always.”

She nodded mutely, hugging him tight enough for his ribs to ache.

“I am so proud of you, Shanriri,” he hushed her. “Karaha-Baruha would have been honored to meet you.”

“I wish I could’ve seen Windurst in its prime,” she took a shaky sigh. “With all the mithra girls chasing you around because you were the only man.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I hid on top of one of the Horutoto towers until they lost track of me. Robel-Akbel sent someone out to bring me food in the hopes it would lure me down.”

“You really play into your stereotype a lot sometimes.”

“Maybe,” he smiled, stroking her back. “So, what will it take to lure you out of  _ this  _ tower?”

Another shaky sigh; less hopeful and less happy as her memories of Lehko’s stories were. “Where is my body?”

“I made a haven out of your baubles. Those young men have been with us since. You’ll be proud of me to know that I managed to sleep with Ignis.”

She gasped, snapping her head up so fast she clocked him in the jaw. “You did?! How was it?”

“I enjoy his passion. He tries to be reserved until I start using electricity.”

She rolled her eyes. “Cheater.”

“He certainly seemed to enjoy it,” Lehko snickered. “Did it near where I had you set down, as well.”

“That’s my manthra.” She flicked the tip of his nose and gave him a watery smile… which faded quickly into a suspicious scowl. “You didn’t get anything on me, did you? I swear, Lehko, if you-”

He shushed her, putting his hand over her mouth. “You were well out of range, I promise.”

She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to lower his hand. When he did, she looked him over. “How much do you like him?”

“A lot,” he confessed. “I’m reluctant to leave, if I’m honest. He’s easy to get attached to. I’ve been telling stories about you.”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t get too offended. “Is it because you’re both retainers to bratty children?”

“Right on the nose,” he snorted, ruffling her hair. “I took him into the night sky, told him stories, and sang to him.”

“Oh, that’s just playing dirty,” she chuckled. “Bet he went for that.”

“He joined me by the river to bathe that morning. He screamed loud enough to frighten away the birds in the trees.”

“Like I said: electricity is cheating.”

“Try it yourself and say that.”

“Just because I say it’s cheating doesn’t mean I’m averse to doing it. Shit, I’ll do it to Ardyn if it means we get out of jail free.”

He smirked, patting her back. “Shanriri, I really should’ve raised you better,” he tutted. “Now; how are you feeling?”

“Horrible,” she sighed. “But I should wake up soon.”

“You were still crying bloody tears when I came here,” he said, a note of concern in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” she nodded once, and looked down at the horn in her hands. “Holding this makes me feel better. More awake.”

He kissed her cheek. “Then we will have it set into something you can keep with you. Any thoughts?”

Sie - or Shanriri - turned the thing over in her hands. Beautiful, and sharp. Her hands were cut up from holding it even the slightest bit too tightly. 

“Set it into an athame,” she decided, holding it up to the light. “If it can cut my hands just holding it, then it will do the job for summoning.”

“Sensible,” Lehko nodded. 

“Forge it in the old Cauldron,” she added. “Beyond Yhoator, where he first resided.”

“Here?”

She nodded and crawled out of his lap. “Ifrit’s Cauldron should hold his memories reflected here. If there’s anything more I can put into this of his, it would be there, through Dynamis. I want it cast to resemble his sword. In memory of him.”

“Very well,” Lehko breathed. “Will you synthesize it yourself?”

She nodded. “Will you take me there?” she asked over her shoulder, looking quietly hopeful.

He closed the distance between her, reeling her into another hug. “You know you never need to ask me that.”

“What about Ignis?”

“Ignis has three other men to focus on. I have only you. He will understand my priorities.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So…” Prompto hummed. “We just… sit and wait?”

“So it would seem,” Ignis nodded, nudging his glasses up his nose. “And pretend what we saw Lehko do was real.”

Gladio was bending down, scooping Sie up into his arms. He’d yet to break down the tent, given they had no idea when Lehko would be back. That in mind, he gently deposited her on his own bedroll after having stolen one of Noct’s clean rags he normally kept in his tackle box to put under her head.

“Well,” Gladio remarked over his shoulder, after giving her face a good wipe-down and study. “Looks like she stopped crying. Hopefully that means the cat found her and talked some sense into her.”

“Then it means they may be back soon!” Prompto crooned optimistically. “I don’t know about you guys, but that portal-thing made me antsy. Looked dangerous, you know? I hope nothing in there was, like, hurting them or anything.”

At that, Ignis bristled. “Lehko has been nothing if not candid with us about this dreamworld place,” he said, schooling his voice into something steady. “It sounds as if he is a significant figure there.”

“I don’t like the thought of there being another world sitting on top of ours,” Noctis mused from where he was fiddling with his phone on one of the fold-away chairs. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

“What if that’s where daemons come from? Like, if starscourge oozes out of there or something?” Prompto blurted.

Everyone stiffened.

“You don’t think…?” Gladio trailed off, staring down at Sie’s sleeping face.

“I highly doubt it,” Ignis said. “Accessing anything daemon-related would prove highly difficult in broad daylight. Not to mention it would be impossible for them to set foot in a haven, let alone  _ create  _ one.”

“Good point,” Prompto nodded. 

It had scarcely been an hour before the peculiar seam in the world opened up. It was silent as it did so, leaving only Noct - who was facing the right direction to see it - to notice as it yawned open. The gateway exhaled a thick plume of black dust, as well as Lehko, who gave himself a bit of a shake to do away with the last of the dark powder. 

“Hey! You’re back,” Noctis breathed, taking a chance at a small sigh of relief. “Is she okay?”

“She will be,” Lehko confirmed as the other men turned and formed a loose semicircle around him. “But, I am here only briefly. Sie and I must carry out a journey in Dynamis that will take us away for some time. I don’t know how long, but there is something important we must do before we can continue on to the Fulgurian, and elsewhere. I am here to rouse her, and formally move her there.”

Noctis lurched forward, eyes straying to the tent. “But didn’t you say waking her could be dangerous?”

“Without her cooperation, yes,” Lehko nodded. “But she is presently back inside of her own mind, and requires only that I wake her.” He reached into a pocket in Dynamis to produce a glass vial full of smelling salts. “We should return before you meet Ramuh. It should not take more than a week, if that.”

With the boys in tow, Lehko bent down into the tent and knelt at Sie’s side. He noted, with no small amount of appreciation, that someone had been wiping away her tears. 

He propped her up and removed the cork from the vial with his teeth, and then held it beneath Sie’s nose.

Her nose twitched and, before her eyes even opened, she sneezed once, twice, and three times. On the third sneeze, her black eyes snapped open and gave way to the mottled, wince-worthy blood in her scleras.  _ “Geeze!  _ Just get the damned prince to kiss me awake, Lehko!” she snarled, sneezing once more and wiping furiously at the back of her hand.

Noctis flinched and blushed. “Uh…  _ what?” _

“You wouldn’t want to right now, to be fair,” Sie continued on, as if she hadn’t just been rattled out of a jarring nightmare with a vial of glorified bath salts. “Everything tastes too much like copper, and the boys these days aren’t fond of tasting blood when they snog an older woman. Isn’t that right, Prompto?”

Prompto flinched. “Um… sure.”

Her madness clearly not registering with the rest of the world the way it did with her, Sie crawled out of the tent and stretched, looking a little manic and wonky on her falsely-conscious feet. “Let’s motor before I get sad again, Lehko.”

Lehko spared Ignis a fleeting touch to the arm before walking past him, offering a tiny smile as he fell in line with Sie. “We will meet again soon.”

“H-hey!” Noctis strode toward her, touching her shoulder and meeting her mottled eyes. “You okay?”

Her manic cheeriness faltered at the sight of the Prince’s illegally-pretty eyes. Her false smile waned, and her eyes softened into a hidden sorrow he’d seen in his own eyes every time he looked in the mirror.

She touched her hand to his. “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares suck worse when you know the giant bird lady is telling the truth, and that the creature you love is deader than the daemon-zombie facsimile of himself.


	10. Laugh, Cry, Laugh, Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Incoming feels. Brace yourselves, children.

Lehko was quickly collecting their things from the camp - the haven crystals, most notably - while she took the time to collect herself and meet the Prince’s penetrating stare. He was touched by the same grief she was, and was thus able to far too easily identify where her edges were fraying. 

Noctis nodded sympathetically, searching her face. “Keep in touch, alright? And stay safe… wherever.”

Her hand lingered over Noctis’s. She squeezed his fingers, just enough to show she’d heard him. “The world gets darker by the hour, Noctis. Endeavor to be a pinprick of light, would you? I emptied your head of the Archaean enough that you should be able to cram a lighthouse in there.”

He snorted, eyes upturning with his translucent smile. “Tell me about the person you lost someday.”

Sie stiffened, eyes widening a fraction before turning down toward one of her pockets. She stole her hand away from Noctis in order to slip her fingers inside and produce the very same horn fragment as had been delivered to her in Dynamis, the thing seeming unwilling to abandon her. It was warm to the touch, almost too hot, when she showed it to him.

Noctis blinked, reaching out to touch it. He hissed when it stung him - like brushing his fingers too close to the grill - and flinched away. “What is that? Isn’t it burning you?”

She brought it to her lips and kissed it as Noctis winced. “Something of a dear friend,” she sighed, blinking back tears. “I cared for him very much, but…”

“I get it,” Noctis interjected, the comforting hand returning to her shoulder. “You don’t have to say more.”

She brought the horn back to her lips awhile longer, nodding and sighing. It still smelled of Ifrit.  _ Her  _ Ifrit. Not the daemons in Ifrit’s skin, making play as the Infernian to lure her away, likely coveting her for Phoenix, and a fresh host to infest. It made her sick to think he could be reduced to something so base and ugly, when he had once encapsulated beauty and intelligence. What would the world be without its fires?

“Sie,” Lehko called, canting his head toward her without attempting to force himself on their atmosphere. “Our things are ready whenever you are.”

She drew a shaky sigh through her nose and turned the horn piece over in her hand, giving Noctis a watery, unconvincing smile. “Off to the land of dreams we go. Fancy yourself a flying chocobo?”

“O-oh, I do!” Prompto gasped, shooting up his arm like a kid in a classroom.

“You would,” Gladio snorted, elbowing him. 

Sie rolled her eyes and smiled. She made a point of waiting just a little longer - long enough for Lehko to skulk around to Ignis. The mithra truly was taken with him, and faster than Sie imagined. She watched from the corner of her eye as Lehko levitated high enough to curl Ignis into a brief, secret kiss full of promises to return. 

She only hoped something worked out between the two of them. Gods knew Lehko was due for an end to his sexual fast.

Once Lehko seemed pleased with the flustered, off-balance state he’d left Ignis in, he came around to loiter where their things  _ had  _ been, until he stashed them into that weird between-place where he kept most of their things. She envied him for accessing it so easily. For her, it always took a little blood for her to reach in and grab anything out of it. 

Sie nodded up to Noctis, giving his arm a brief squeeze. “If we miss you at the Fulgurian… please, be careful with Leviathan. She will not care who you are, or what your business with her is, Noctis. Without doubt or question, she will attempt to drown you and everything in sight for rousing her. She is not your friend until she is your slave.”

Noctis blanched at that. “So… any tips?” he asked through an obvious wince. After what he’d seen with Titan, he fully expected the entire force of the Six to try to kill him before giving up their covenants. 

“Learn to swim, for one,” she snorted. “And remember: She is no maiden-goddess. She is the serpent who poisoned the prince and bested Garuda. Any dealings with Leviathan will always end in death.”

“In death?” Gladio nudged in, frowning hard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that she won’t just want  _ you  _ dead,” Sie replied, deadpan. “She will see to it that anything that draws breath is dragged into the sea. Death is inevitable with Leviathan. She is cruel beyond words to even the most humble of callers. Many wild animals are.”

Her eyes turned hard, pinning Noctis in place. “Leviathan is an animal, Noctis. To her, you are both food, and an insult. She is even more cruel than Titan, and even  _ bigger.  _ Take care.”

She backed away until she stood side-by-side with Lehko. The horn still flickered in her hand, feeling warm and safe, and downright welcoming. Its twisted edges were sharp, making for what could be a nice multi-edged stiletto. Good for stabbing, and good enough to carve a good gash in her palm. 

It made her wonder…

Sie glanced to Lehko before bringing the horn down on her palm. She slashed into it, feeling the razor-sharp sting and eye-watering burn as Ifrit’s fire soaked into the shallow cut. She felt it in her veins, spanning nearly to her elbow, but without the horrific pain she would’ve expected. Rather, she felt aware of the channels in which the fires had burned, but no damage. In fact…

Her eyes widened. Fire consumed her palm, accompanied by cracks of white-hot, lightning-like energy, and motes of white light. Power from Ifrit dancing with the power from Phoenix, drawing forth the strength of the Phoenician in a way she had never before managed to reach without allowing him to take control of her body.

The wound was already gone, but the power was there, coalescing in the palm of her hand.  _ “O Atomos; O Maker; O Breaker; Loan unto me, O Master of Reality, thy Cavernous Maw…” _

With no blood required, the motes of white light danced forth and, with a harsh sensation of the sound being sucked from the air around them, there appeared from a whirlwind of black dust [a floating maw made of bone and macabre sinew, bearing teeth of crystal, and a throat of shimmering light.](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/0/01/Cavernous_Maw.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20071103121852)

The floating maw turned toward her and Lehko, who held tight to her hand, and bent. It opened wide and began to inhale, sucking up light, color, shape, and dimension from them - creating them into familiar black dust, and swallowing them up.

When they were gone, the maw closed, and broke apart into nothing but bone dust and ash.

The Maw was kind to them. When the flashes of light and shadow engulfing them faded, and they felt earth beneath their feet once more, the familiar heat and humidity of a long-forgotten village overtook them.

Kazham. An old Mithran village, belonging to the true wildlings that did not join Windurst during the great Crystal War which, to Sie’s eternal sadness, was long forgotten. Perhaps Vana’diel - Eos - would have learned from its first Crystal. Perhaps she should mention it to Noctis someday.

Perhaps not.

Lehko was already handing her clothing [made in the Igqira fashion](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/1/15/Igqira_Armor_Set.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20070627172536), made up of metal discs and bone fang pauldrons, feathers, heavily-embroidered cloth, and metal greaves and wristguards ranging from silver, to brown, to tan. “Here, now,” he said gently, already helping her out of the heavy doublet he’d put on her in Eos.

She undressed completely. Lehko helped her into the weskit, whose accompanying jewelry of white and black cabochons hummed to life, and whose singular fang pauldron adjusted to hug her shoulder closely. As it did, the hidden brands and tattoos upon her body crept to the fore; twisting and writhing, laced with the ancient marks of the Avatars, meant to channel her power as she needed it.

He helped her in shimmying into the lappas, made of durable cloth and leather, punched through with metal grommets, that gave way to huaraches made of the polished shell of a legendary uragnite, gone long extinct. Its shell was polished so perfectly as to resemble polished steel, yet could take nearly ten times the amount of trauma before denting. The manillas - gloves and wrist guards - were made from the remains of the same uragnite. 

Lehko released a small hum of satisfaction. It would certainly do for the heat, and the sight of her marks humming and pulsing with crimson and white light gave him a sense of accomplishment. “I do wish you wouldn’t hide these,” he remarked, sliding his finger along one curling line on her bicep.

The relief from the heat drew an audible sigh out of her. “Modern men don’t tend to take my real appearance well,” she shrugged, rubbing the spot he’d touched. Lehko’s own magic made the marks hum and want to reach out to connect. Whores for magic, they were.

“Fair enough, Shanriri,” Lehko nodded, using her real name. He wouldn’t use it in front of people in Eos, but Dynamis was effectively theirs; they being royalty below Diabolos. “Shall we dip into a memory?”

She nodded. “I can’t navigate Yuhtunga and Yhoator for shit.”

He smirked. “Nobody can. When shall we go?”

“After the war, but before that insufferable Eald’narche.”

“Understood.”

Lehko reached into his pocket and procured a small, antique hourglass; full of cracks and worn with time, but otherwise simple and worthless… Until Lehko held it by the underside, and Sie placed her hand over the top.

Of its own accord, the sand in the hourglass began to trickle upward, filling the top of the glass as the world flooded with light, life, and color. It came as a blur at first, until the sand began to fully leave the bottom of the glass. With each missing grain, the whorl of color and sound slowed, and slowed, and slowed.

They stood upon the [grand wooden dock just beyond the ticket agency](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/7/7e/Air_Travel_Agency_%28Kazham%29.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20081223103841) to the single airship that allowed travel between Kazham and the Capitol, Jeuno. A place long dead, and long forgotten, much to Sie’s heartache.

It was a jungle village, interspersed between short lava tubes and tall walls draped with ferns, moss, and jungle flowers heady with sweetness once prized for their application in perfumes. Primitive to the eyes of some, it was one of the few settlements for the mithra outside of the continent of Olzhirya. Lehko’s birthplace.

All around them stood mithran women, dressed in fierce, revealing battle garb of leather and cloth; enticing to men, but practical in a place where the humid air was stifling, and wearing bulky armor made far too much noise in the treacherous wilderness.

As they’d gone backward in time and memory, Lehko altered his appearance into that of a female version of himself. “Best avoid the Horutoto incident,” he explained, shooting her a wink. Indeed, a male so far away from home would attract an awful lot of amorous attention.

A short walk from the airship was [the wooden gate leading onward into Yuhtunga Jungle](http://blog.ffxi.foreverfinalfantasy.com/latcarf/uploads/Towns/kazham_yuhtunga_gates.jpg), which lead onward into Yhoator, which led onward still into Ifrit’s Cauldron; a great volcano, playing host to Ifrit’s ancient throne. The journey would be excruciatingly difficult, as traveling back to any iteration of the realm once known as Vana’diel spelled trouble, as they would not be recognized as anything more than a pair of reckless adventurers.

It didn’t matter.

Sie didn’t care.

“Lehko?”

“Shanriri?”

She smiled weakly and closed her eyes, feeling a swirl of nostalgia at the name Lehko had given her when he had come to care for her. “The summoning barely made a dent. I don’t even feel winded.”

Lehko’s eyebrows lifted. “Because of…?”

Sie looked at the horn in her hand, and at the already-warmed and flushed slice in her hand, which had already begun to cauterize itself shut with fire that felt more familiar than her own skin. “He may be gone, but part of him is with me. I felt Phoenix reach out into it, and suddenly, there was no effort needed. It’s like Phoenix was able to feed me his power using Ifrit’s flames as a sort of… fuel.”

She whirled on her foot and beamed at him, regardless of the grief settled in her copper eyes. “But it burned you to touch, right?”

Lehko winced at the memory. His hand still stung a little. “I believe I came just shy of a real burn, were it not for my gloves.”

“It’s just warm to me,” she breathed, looking at the horn in awe. “I hold it in my hands, and I can feel the fire inside touching me, but it doesn’t hurt. When I cut myself with it, I felt…  _ Ifrit. My  _ Ifrit. Our friend. Like an echo. I think what’s left of him can help me in my summoning and channeling the pacts.”

“All the more reason to have it set,” Lehko nodded firmly, touching her shoulder. “If there is some piece of him left inside it, then I know his help is dredging up his memories of you. He was very fond of you, you know.”

Despite her, her cheeks flushed. “I always thought it was one-sided. Every time we met, I just… I couldn’t help but…”

“I communed with him regularly,” Lehko said, giving her a squeeze. “He cared about you. I know he did.” 

Lehko began guiding them across the small village, along the rocky walls of lava stone, toward a small shop beside a large wooden gate. Beside it was a familiar chocobo stand, with a humble little set of stables and an extremely tall, beautiful woman with long ears standing by.

Elvaan. Another dead race. It had taken a long time to reconcile herself to the  many races that once inhabited the world.

“Two chocobos, please,” Lehko requested, voice feminine and breasts prominent in the deep cleavage of his jacket.

The woman sized them up. “Five hundred gil for the day, each.”

Sie winced. “Highway robbery, that,” she muttered. “Seems the price is always different, no matter how exact we are in the time we choose coming here.”

Lehko chuckled and reached for a heavy bag full of gil. He passed the money off without flinching. They had more than enough savings to do some traveling around the ancient world. “Thank you very much,” she said, even if she felt more gouged than a particular incident regarding herself, a bugbear, and some rusty rebar.

The jungle was a maze of risen lava rock walls drenched with foliage and life. Mandragoras - tiny things with onion-like heads, soon-to-bloom buds, and too-small bodies toddled about with huge, milky eyes. They paid them no mind, being little more than walking plants capable of putting to sleep with noxious pollen if upset.

More dangerous were the goblins that skulked the area; hunched creatures, bearing heady masks reminiscent of primitive gas masks, and carrying hulking packs that would do Gladio proud. The beastmen were intelligent and deadly, and packed dangerous explosives that, were they not careful, would land them with a lot of singed hair and angry chocobos.

Luckily, she and Lehko carried an air of deadly experience that gave the roaming goblins pause before attacking. They knew well enough when to choose their battles, and she and Lehko were not to be trifled with. Lehko  _ reeked  _ of magic, while she  _ reeked  _ of the Avatars and their power.

“So…” she hummed, glancing this way and that. There were multiple downward paths leading into lava tubes not far beyond Kazham. “Which way was it?”

“This way,” Lehko coaxed her, turning his chocobo left and into a large alcove in the stone. There was a hole, just big enough for a person and their chocobo to fit down, with a drop that wouldn’t do the birds harm. Below was yet another lava tube, populated by ugly, grey lizards with short claws and strong back legs. Their eyes were milky and strangely lifeless in a way that made her absolutely hate all lizards as a species.

As they progressed, Sie bristled in time with Lehko - visible by the way his tail puffed up. “Do you smell that?”

He nodded. “Malboro. We can sneak by if the birds are quiet.”

Indeed, following the tubes lead them into a large clearing overtaken by several ancient trees. A ravine sat in the middle of the clearing, deep enough to hide two hideous malboros, writhing and twitching as they waited for prey. Their toxic breath was sweet, acting like a lure for animals to pursue in search of sweet nectar.

Despite the malboros’ dozens of eyes on writhing tentacles above their heads, the disgusting plantoids detected prey by sound. Unsurprisingly, they despised fire, but weren’t above trying to attack despite any assaults using even the more vicious elemental magicks.

Lehko halted them and drew the chocobos to a nearby tree branch, tying them off to prevent them fleeing. “We’ll not get to the tunnel with them both here. Feel like testing out Ifrit’s horn?”

She grinned eagerly and nodded. Channeling her grief into something active and  _ incredibly  _ destructive was more therapeutic than crying into her knees until the world fell apart and Phoenix had to intervene.

She kissed the horn for good luck and drew a thin cut into her palm. She’d long since lost all sensation in that part of her hand, so she barely twitched at the sting.

She focused, furrowing her brow and reaching out to the power of the horn. “If there’s anything left of you, Frit,” she whispered. “ _ Show me.” _

With a thrash of her arm, the cut glowed white-hot and furious with flames. They rose up from her palm, swirling like a vortex. From it spewed forth no fewer than four spheres of light, the size of her fist, that [rapidly coalesced into fire elementals;](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/d/d0/Elemental_Fire_%28FFXI%29.png/revision/latest?cb=20130719101922) floating, quiet things, but bearing a proclivity for running amok at even the faintest smell of enemy magic.

“Four…?” Lehko said in awe. “But you’ve only ever managed one. After all this time…?”

“Go,” Sie said to the elementals, eyes blazing. “See to our obstacles.”

The elementals obeyed with eerie silence, flying high into the air above the ravine, and beginning to swirl and gleam with rapidly charging magic.

“I don’t know,” Sie confessed, looking at her palm. In the distance, the entire ravine  _ exploded. _ “It feels like nothing. Like a paper cut and missing a step on the stairs, you know?”

“Then,” Lehko hopped back up onto his bird, waiting for her to join him before making a line toward the ravine which, by all accounts, may as well have been volcanic in the wake of the fire elementals. “I believe there is some part of the true Ifrit with you now. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if his fondness for you extended through every part of his being.”

Sie made a gesture with her hand, keeping it palm-up and purposefully folding one finger after another inward to touch the cut. With each finger, an elemental dismissed itself, leaving behind for them a cluster of fire crystals for each elemental. Sie swung down to pocket them. “Try not to make me think too much more about it,” she sighed gently, shaking her head. “I would rather not try to see patterns in chaos, you know?”

“Understood.” He patted her knee before urging his chocobo forward, down a lava tube hidden in the wall of the ravine. It was a close fit, and one anything taller than a mithra would have to duck to traverse, but all the faced them were those ugly lizards Sie hated to an unreasonable degree.

For hours, they carried on through the winding maze of the jungle, dodging willful goblins and coeurls that didn’t recognize something bigger and meaner than they were in Lehko. All it had taken him as summoning a few good pops and crackles of electricity for the other cats to detect a larger beast and retreat into the tall grass and ferns when they came into view.

Sie quietly thanked Lehko for insisting she dress in her Igqira attire. She’d only ever worn it a few times. It had been a gift from Lehko himself on one of her birthdays, the mithra having fondly mentioned that its style had been worn by many of the mithra mercenaries during the Crystal War. It was sentimental and loving of him to give, which made Sie remarkably reluctant to wear it for anything where its attributes could actually be tested.

He hadn’t admonished her. Lehko never was one much for admonishing. Instead, the clever cat smiled to himself when she startled herself by channeling elemental magic much better than before. Coupled with Ifrit’s horn, he watched her exercise her power with stunning ease; greater comfort and less grimacing and bare-toothed sneering as she yanked elementals and old spells out of her repertoire to help them clear the way to Yhoator.

 

* * *

 

 

They arrived at an outpost in Yuhtunga. While the birds were peachy keen to continue on the journey, Lehko and Sie were beginning to feel a little punchy, and in need of a safe space to curl up and sleep through the coming night. 

[The outpost was set upon a great overlook](https://www.bg-wiki.com/images/f/f6/Gemini_Falls_header.jpg) into a valley not many people had a chance to see. An immense waterfall tumbled down a lava stone cliff, wreathed in rich, green plants the entire way down to a large pool below, leading away into a river disappearing beneath the rock walls that formed the valley.

Waxy-leaved trees stood short enough for her to climb, if she wanted, and provided cover for the multitude of sahagin that roamed the waterfall and river.

“Do you think they’d ever believe us if we told them of what the sahagin first were?” Lehko asked contemplatively, sitting with his feet dangling down the lip of the overlook with a warm mithkabob in his hand - his favorite.

Sie nibbled at hers, spine positively tingling. She hadn’t tasted mithran spices in quite some time. If only Ignis knew what he’d missed out on so many generations ago. “I think Gladio would tell us to take a walk.”

Lehko smirked and nodded, looking down at the creatures below.  _ Beastmen,  _ not the crocodilians of the future. [The sahagin of Lehko’s days were bipedal creatures](http://ffforever.info/pics/gallery/ffxi/monsters/%5Bffforever.info%5D_ffxi_monster_19_Sahagin.jpg), resembling hunchbacked aquans, with extremely long, webbed spines along their backs to their short tails, with the faces of sharp-toothed catfish. Their claws were notoriously sharp, and their intelligence showed in their crude jewelry and weapons.

The sahagin of Lehko’s time were clever enough to select forms of combat, and even use magic and music to empower themselves. In fact, were it not for Lehko and his popping, sizzling electricity, they would be quite annoying.

“Do we continue to Yhoator the old fashioned way?” Sie mused around a chunk of perfectly-charred fish. “Or do we go through Sea Serpent Grotto?”

“Yhoator would be better,” Lehko mused back, reaching for another skewer while they watched the pastel sky give way to glittering stars and a colorful moon that, to their mutual lament, no longer shone with the colors of the days of the week. Earthsday, Watersday, Firesday… all given way to different names in the week Sie still struggled with.

“Yeah,” she hummed. “You’re right. Too indirect.”

“You want to go to Norg,” he snorted, smirking knowingly. “To see the pirates.”

“If you had any idea how tempted I am to contact the Spitewardens sometimes,” she moaned, flopping back onto the thick jungle grass. “I think I would sometimes rather live in your time than any other. I’d’ve liked to meet Frit then.”

“He was sporting a different look in those days,” Lehko said. “His more aesthetically appealing look came much later.”

“Beauty is only skin deep, my feline friend.”

He snorted and patted her thigh. “If you say so, Shanriri.”

She turned her head, still chewing, as she looked at his profile. “You gonna lose the boobs anytime soon?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. Lehko had neglected to resume his natural, preferred self as a male. “You look like you’re about to fall out of that coat.”

“Just because you gave me mithkabobs doesn’t mean I have a fancy for  _ your  _ mithkabob, pervert.”

She barked a laugh and clapped her hand over her mouth. “You’re one to talk!” she said, voice muffled. “You’re the one that gave me this getup!”

“It isn’t nearly as revealing as you want to think it is.” He rolled his eyes. “All I can see is your arms.”

“More than revealing, then,” she drawled, rubbing her arm. It still felt strange to stare at the marks that littered her entire body without feeling immediately compelled to hide them. It too often felt like flaunting a love affair… which it rather was. She did carry close relationships with the Avatars that shared her blood. 

She felt Lheko’s fingers card through her hair, and chose  _ not  _ to lurch away from mithkabob juice getting on her. “Gladiolus wears his marks with pride,” he soothed. “And is he not admired for them?”

She pursed her lips, chewing the thought over. Literally. “Mine are just, like… You can see everywhere I’ve been if you look at them.”

“They cannot decipher the meaning of your marks, Shanriri,” Lehko reminded her, playing with some of the feathers on the back of her glove. “Nobody can. The marks the pacts branded you with date back to before the conflict that got us here. Not even the Astrals will recognize the signatures, especially since they change with each one you call upon.”

Indeed, looking upon the ones present on her skin, she wore the signature marks of Diabolos - the last Avatar she offered her blood. They were black things, threaded through with red, and reminiscent of rose vines. They were curved and elegant, until they would give way to wicked looking thorns forming ciphers that had, indeed, been long forgotten.

As she lay in the grass, Sie reached into her pocket and removed Ifrit’s horn. In the night, it glowed promisingly with its flickering inner flames; creeping up the inside of the horn as they tried their seductive song trying to seduce their way to the outside. Hot through her glove, holding the thing in her hand would’ve easily kept her toasty on a cold night. Like Ifrit himself had once done. 

“Will you name it?” Lehko asked tenderly. “Every legendary weapon deserves a name.”

She shook her head in wonder. The longer she held it in her hand, the more energetic the inner fires became. “I wouldn’t know what to name it. What does one name a part of their dead one-time lover?”

“Falbub,” Lehko suggested.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Falbub?”

“Did I never teach you?” Lehko asked, a fond smile curling on his face as he turned his eyes to the fiery red star in the sky above. Ifrit’s star. “The people of Noctis’s time only know the truth of Ifrit as far back as their technology can catalog.”

“I know Ifrit was once a man named Frit,” she interrupted through her befuddled frown. “But who’s Falbub? That’s a person, right?”

“Falbub was the girl that gave Ifrit his soft heart,” Lehko explained.[ “In the days his name was Frit, he was a warmonger and a notoriously-bloodthirsty warrior.](http://ffxiclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/The_Transformation_of_Ifrit) During one of his campaigns, he came across a newborn baby in the house he’d ordered burned down. She was left beside her mother, who had been killed before the burning was to begin.”

She winced. “I really hate hearing about his history.”

“You need to know it if you’re ever going to decide you truly love him,” Lehko retorted. 

She went quiet, and Lehko continued: “Ifrit approached the baby girl and, in spite of him, stopped her crying. She smiled, and reached for him. He was so taken by her that he ended the war he’d been waging to take her in, entrust her two his two oldest retainers, and hid her away from his enemies to give her a happy, normal life. He watched her distantly, and it was her sweetness and kindness that warmed his heart into something passionate and loving toward mankind.

“But, one day, his enemies strayed upon her, and burned his estate to the ground, killed his servants, and killed Falbub.”

Sie furrowed her brow in open-mouthed horror. “That is an  _ awful  _ story.”

Lehko nodded solemnly. “Ifrit cursed himself for being, in no small part, the reason for Falbub’s death. He worried himself half to death, heartbroken, and took a prophecy into his heart:  _ ‘When the Sun is Consumed by the Moon, The Souls of the Dead will Gather at the Mountain of Flames, and the Gates of the Underworld will open.’  _ He went on to the mountain that would be renamed Ifrit’s Cauldron, and he waited in meditation until he could no longer discern a day from a week, or a month from a year.

“Finally, darkness fell over him, and the Underworld opened up. From the gates charged the men and women he had killed. He remembered all of them, knew the weight of his sins against them, and sat still as they took out their revenge on him; tearing him to ribbons. Then, when he had no life left to give for his sins, they cursed him into the shape of a fiery monster.

“After the transformation was complete, the spirits seemed satisfied with their revenge. As they quieted, one more figure emerged from the Underworld. Falbub.

“Ifrit cowered away from her, terrified of his own appearance, and heartsick to think she would turn away from him for his broken appearance. However… she smiled at him and held out her hands. Ifrit said a prayer to the Goddess - the very one I serve, and has been forgotten. The Goddess heard him, and sent from the heavens a spark of vitality. She returned Falbub to life in exchange for Ifrit’s peace… but Falbub wept and wailed as Ifrit was drawn into the next world, leaving her alone. Ifrit was smiling as he disappeared, and his smile alone was what soothed her tears.

“Nevertheless,” Lehko raised a finger, eyes twinkling knowingly. “The Goddess saw that Falbub’s life could never be truly happy without Ifrit. And so, she called Ifrit from the Underworld, and Falbub from her life, and drew them up into the heavens,” he said, and pointed out to the crimson star glowing high above them.

Sie didn’t realize she was crying until the nighttime breeze cooled the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Do you think part of him is still up there?” she asked with a shaking voice.

He tangled their fingers together, despite the grease from their dinner. “I don’t know. But, if there ever was an Astral that held the Goddess’s affection, it would be him. The Goddess never truly forsakes her chosen ones.”

Sie looked at the horn in her hand, now shimmering bright enough to cast shadows across her face, and kissed it. “Falbub it is, then.”

“I believe that’s why he was so taken with you,” Lehko hummed, lying back to join her in the grass. “I wager you reminded him of her.”

“How’s that?” she snorted. “I don’t remember having the balls to land myself in a constellation with the guy.”

“Maybe not,” he shrugged. “But you smiled at him when you met him.”

She stilled, focusing again on the horn. “That’s right…”

He carded his fingers through her hair, smiling fondly as the lights from the nearby outpost began to glow, bathing them in distant, friendly light. “Tell me again. Tell me about how you met. You  _ did  _ sneak off to do it without me, remember.”

She let out a tiny, frail laugh. “That’s right,” she murmured, holding the horn to her lips and speaking around it. “I had no idea where to find him. I’d only ever seen him in the Cauldron, in the past, and that was just an echo. Actually communing with him was impossible.”

He continued petting her hair, occasionally stroking his thumb along the side of the horn jutting from her forehead. 

“I was twelve, but I wanted to meet him so badly. He sounded so  _ cool.  _ So I built a bonfire in the woods when you weren’t home in the hopes I could perform some ad-hoc ritual I came up with in my diary in the hopes he’d take the bait… except I caught half the woods on fire.”

Sie smirked and chuckled a little more meaningfully. “I remember yelling, ‘Ifrit! I wanted to talk to you, but now look at what you’ve made me do for not answering me!’ at the top of my lungs, more angry than afraid… Until the damned house started burning - which would be the reason you moved us to Heaven’s Tower. Don’t know why, though. You moved us from a house to a temple underneath a gigantic tree.”

Lehko snorted, but said nothing.

“I screamed, over the roar of the flames,  _ ‘Dammit, Ifrit! Get out here right now and fix this! I can’t breathe smoke like you!’  _ I don’t know why I was so mad at him, but I was. Like, I expected the bonfire to have been enough, but,  _ nope. _

“Finally, just before the damned house is about to really burn and destroy all of our stuff, I see the fire slow down. The fire looked like it was trying to wave and flail through molasses and, from the hottest part of the fire, there the bastard was. And he just  _ looked  _ at me, with his eyebrow raised and his hand on his hip, and I just… I don’t know. I went from frustrated he didn’t swoop in right away, to overjoyed it actually worked. And I grinned hard enough to hurt my face, and I asked him if he would please make the house stop burning, and then said I wanted to make a pact with him because,  _ ‘I’m Shanriri! I swallowed up Phoenix and I think you two would be great friends!’  _ Not knowing that they’d  _ probably  _ already met.”

_ “Probably,”  _ Lehko agreed, snickering.

“So, he stopped the fire, and bent down to my level, summoned a little trickle of fire, took my hand, and let it slide into my hand like sand. I flinched, but it was just as warm as a blanket by the fireplace, and it slid into my skin, and that was that. He petted my hair and gave my arm a squeeze, and told me to refrain from burning the forest down without his supervision.”

“I don’t think that ever stopped you,” Lehko accused.

A slow, wicked grin spread out across her face. “You sure?”

Lehko sat up on his elbow and glared at her. “What. You’re saying the fire in the village-”

“He told me how to scrape the coals out of the fireplace to where they’d catch better.’

_ “Shanriri Habhoka!”  _

His outraged face made her double up laughing. And then her laughter turned to crying. And then she was buried in his chest, holding the horn in her hand, and bawling loud enough to startle the sahagin in the valley below. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ifrit's story is so sad to me, both in the FFXI universe and the FFXV universe. Major bummer, but I fucking adore him all the same. 
> 
> As an aside, I'm trying to provide as many visual aids as possible via screenshots and original concept art to get all y'all a decent view of what my favorite game, FFXI, looks like.


	11. Sexting Recipes in the Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the coeurl (torama) sleeps tonight

At some point, Sie fell asleep. She woke in the morning to birds of paradise chattering and calling, to the cool, evening humidity giving way beneath the rising sun to something more suffocating. 

Her eyes were sore and bleary, but she could see well enough that Lehko had brought her into the outpost and paid for the use of a couple of cots for the night. The outpost didn’t see much in the way of traffic. She could tell by how the cots and bedding still smelled of the soap and clear water used to clean them, rather than the smell of the last sweaty adventurer to use them.

Lehko had pushed their cots together, sleeping with one arm thrown over her waist, and an arm under her pillow, like how she had slept next to Ardyn in the camper. Not that she cared to think much about the man. Ifrit was dominant in both the front and back of her mind, for she could smell the faint scent of volcanic ash drifting from Ifrit’s Cauldron. 

They weren’t far from where they’d have to switch maps from Yuhtunga to Yhoator. Perhaps another couple hours’ ride by chocobo, followed by another few days in the adjacent jungle before they’d worm their way into the Cauldron. 

Yhoator would be the tough part of the journey. Tonberries lurked in Yhoator. Little did the people of Eos know that tonberries were hardly borne from the starscourge. In truth, many of the daemons seen by Noctis were once alive before. If the scourge could take the face of the fallen Ifrit, then it could take the face of the beasts that existed as mere echoes in the earth. Probably why they had shape at all. 

Lehko hummed and purred in his sleep, a secret grin on his mouth. His tail was flicking in that way that meant he was interested in something, and his ears were twitching. Dreaming of Ignis, probably. No mithra purred that hard unless they were thinking of something particularly  _ enticing. _

Reluctant to wake him, Sie crept out of the mithra’s sleeping embrace before he had a chance to start getting truly inspired through his dreams. Granted, she hardly cared. Enough time spent together meant that things got awkward sometimes, which lead to things being shrugged off just as easily. She couldn’t begin to guess how many times she’d walked in on him in a compromising position in the bathroom, and the same extended to her.

The outpost boasted a common tub that funneled water from the river in the valley through into a wide wooden bath and shower head. The water was tolerably cool; a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat. She hadn’t done any research, but she wondered if the forests were seated where Lestallum now sat. Maybe. Maybe not.

It was possible for her to get in and out of her clothing on her own, but corseted sides to the weskit posed the greatest trouble. Nothing Lehko couldn’t help with, if need be, or the [keen-eyed opo-opo](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/3/3f/Opo-Opo.png/revision/latest?cb=20131107065207) that liked to skulk around the outpost in search of handouts.

She undressed with a heavy sigh and stepped into the bath - water clean and clear, and constantly cycled with the flow of the river. She took her time to soak and remind herself that temperatures existed below boiling. Why Ifrit was the Avatar of Fire was beyond her.

She sat and leaned back, enjoying the cool water the way one would similarly enjoy the hot water of an onsen. Even after bathing, she leaned back and shut her eyes, feeling impervious to the sweltering heat that filtered in through the slatted windows on the walls above.

Without opening her eyes, she heard shuffling, and the shifting of fabric being dropped to the floor. She heard the jingling of jewelry, and a few moments of latent purring before the water shifted.

“Dream of Iggy?”

“Abundantly.”

“Thought so,” she snorted. “I made myself get up before you started leaving stains on my hip.”

He chuckled instead of flushed. He sat across from her and relished the water along with her, feeling not an instant of shyness. The water was barely deeper than the top of her shin, and was clear enough to leave nothing to the imagination.

“Maybe someday we can bring the boys here,” she suggested, voice soft and idle. “I imagine they’d like it.”

“Perhaps,” Lehko hummed. “Pulling four people here would be a strain, though, no? You’ve never so much as brought a single outsider here.”

“We’ll have to see,” she agreed. She reached over and grabbed the horn again, having left it close at hand for her to continue petting. “Using this in place of my normal knife for the pacts feels… good. Like Noctis and those weapons. Like it’s important I have it.”

“If the Anemoian thought it fitting you have it, then it probably is,” he agreed while beginning to properly wash himself. She didn’t much mind the smell of his body odor on such hot days, but they had only one bath left before they reached the Cauldron. “You never know. In this era, people would challenge the Avatars and Astrals to trials by combat. Each avatar was rumored to have some form of treasure if they were ever bested.”

“What did Ifrit give?”

“If I remember correctly… It was rumored he could provide a ring, but I don’t know if anyone ever managed to claim that prize.”

She nodded slowly. Not surprising. The Ifrit she knew was a beautiful man adorned in lavish jewels and princely raiments; nearly entirely naked, for the most part. As a girl, she’d seen no fault in it. She and Lehko knew nothing of taboos or shyness with each other. Why? Lehko was ostensibly the gayest cat in history. She, meanwhile, had a habit of not giving a fuck and lazing about naked, even to the intense mortification of others.

_ Ding! _

Sie and Lehko jolted, heads snapping up and twisting toward Sie’s pile of clothes.

They exchanged looks.

_ Ding! _

“Uh…” Sie went pale.

Lehko bristled, looking fit to cling to the ceiling. “What in all the..?”

Sie crawled awkwardly out of the bath, ass in the air, as she pawed for where her phone was tucked in a pocket in her lappas. 

She unlocked it.

“First of all,” she said, eyes glued to her phone. “How the fuck do we have signal in  _ Yuhtunga Jungle dating back to 20 years following the Crystal War? _ ”

“My first guess is Diabolos’s tail has begun functioning as a cell tower,” Lehko snorted, subverting his horror.

“And secondly… how the  _ fuck  _ did  _ Ardyn Izunia  _ get my number?”

Lehko’s face screwed up into a dumbfounded grimace. He sloshed through the bath to flop over beside her, looking down at the phone. “I’m beginning to wonder if there was something in the mithkabobs.”

“I’m beginning to think the same.”

“So, what does it say?” he elbowed her, practically crawling over her shoulder to look.

She opened up the chat field.

>You would be amazed to see what the right clearance can do to aid in the acquisition of one’s phone number through one’s service provider.

“That sonofa-” Sie’s teeth clicked.

>You would also be amazed to see the lengths I am willing to go to gently convince you to meet with me, My Lady Summoner. 

_ Ding!  _ The phone nearly fell out of her hand.

It was a photo message, taken from an airship as other airships in the shot were opening up and dropping MTs… on Noctis, Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis.

Lehko snarled deep in his throat - a sound a human was incapable of making - as the fur on his tail bristled like a bottle cleaner. His teeth flashed, and his pupils turned to slits. 

_ Ding! _

>In all honesty, you and I do have a few things to discuss. Agree upon a place and time, and I will make the military disappear, and give our dear beloved Prince a chance to breathe. What do you say?

_ Ding! _

>And do leave your retainer at home, would you? This is a private matter.

“If it rains, it fucking pours,” Sie hissed as Lehko hissed. “How the hell do I have signal here?! And what the  _ fuck  _ is going on?!”

Lehko shook his head while his fingers trembled. “Just answer, before I start a thunderstorm.”

Sie let out a sigh:

>a surprise rapprochement with the chancellor himself? and it’s not even my birthday. what would you say if i told you i’m currently wrapped up at the moment? it will take me some time to make free time. a summoner’s work is never done.

“Lucky he said I shouldn’t go,” Lehko growled. “I’ll kill him.”

“Don’t think you’re alone with that sentiment,” she snorted and rubbed her temple. “That little shit… Who knew kids could be so willful these days?”

_ Ding! _

It was a photo of the boys in the same spot, surrounded by dead MTs, but looking at the end of their rope.

>I think you can find the time.

“Fancy teaching me how to properly clean and cook human?” she asked Lehko.

“With pleasure.”

She took a moment to breathe, and then shook her head. “I may have to go back. I’ll take the maw back here when I’m done. Atomos knows where to drop me, now.”

Lehko got to his feet, eyes flashing cautiously as he watched her dress. “I’ll follow shortly after and see to the boys, if necessary” he promised, assisting in lacing her weskit.

“Stay out of sight. He may take it as toeing the line with his ‘no cats allowed,’ rule.”

She opened the chat field again:

>you still in that airship?

_ Ding!  _

>Why, yes. Fancy a ride?

Sie felt a tickle of electricity beside her. She shot Lehko a look. “Dispense with the electricity for when we’re not in a giant tub of water, Lehk’,” she reminded him with a little nudge of her elbow. “I’m gonna call him. See if we really  _ do  _ get signal here which, by the way, we’re absolutely asking Diabolos about. We could get wifi.”

She tapped the little phone icon in the corner of the chat field and brought her phone to hear ear, listening for a dial tone.

There was nothing at first, before a single garbled ring tickled her eardrum, followed by a much clearer, more practiced ring. Like the connection was clearing up the more they used it. Strange.

_ “My Lady Summoner? What a pleasure to hear your voice,”  _ Ardyn’s voice purred with perfectly normal clarity.

Lehko ground his teeth, but remained silent.

“Hello, Chancellor,” she replied in kind. “And here I feared Cauthess would be the last time I could hear yours. I understand we have a matter to settle between us, but using the poor Prince of Lucis as collateral?” Her lips curved into a sardonic, dry smile. “I’m touched.”

His chuckle sent a thrill down her spine.  _ “Indeed. I’m afraid Prince Noctis and his retinue are experiencing a little bit of trouble down below. I can see them through the window. Valiant as they may be, it may take more than a couple of curatives to keep them going.” _

She elbowed Lehko before he could snarl. Damned cats and their superior hearing. “To that end, how may I help you, Ardyn? What is it you need that I can’t convey to you over the phone?”

She heard Ardyn let out an empty, dramatic sigh.  _ “A bit of a mix-up on my end, I’m afraid. My contemporaries in the Empire have caught wind that you and I have had contact, and simply insist you come for an audience. Whispers of your magic have already spread, and more than a few inquiring minds would like to examine you.” _

She elbowed Lehko hard, shutting him up even more. “So, you’re forced to either collect me, or the Prince, or else be seen as sympathetic to the enemy?”

_ “My, my; astute you are, My Lady Summoner. Or is it Sie? I do believe I’ve earned the right to call you Sie, don’t you think?” _

“Of course,” she answered blithely, putting on a serene smile for nobody’s benefit but her own theatrics. “Unfortunately, I did mean it when I said that I’m far away and unable to reach you right now. Personal business to attend to.” She reached over and palmed Ifrit’s horn again as she spoke, finding strength in it. “Why don’t you and I make a deal?”

_ “Oh? And what deal would that be?” _

She shot Lehko a glare. His hackles were lifting so much that the hair was rising from his head. “I will help you avoid trouble with your  _ contemporaries  _ right now and, once we have all inevitably met merrily in Altissia, I will meet you for dinner and share a hotel room with you. Publicly. To show that I am in your custody and unwittingly awaiting capture; assuming the event to be more of an amorous affair by the canals. I’ll even pay for dinner. How does that grab you?”

There was a moment’s pause. He was considering it. _ ”What a romantic getaway. And, do tell, how will you be intervening in the ‘right now’ portion of your promise?” _

“You have to agree first.”

_ “And if I don’t?”  _ He sounded amused.

“Then you have your Prince and his friends, Lucis loses its only savior, Niflheim becomes the dominant power in the world, and you get a resounding pat on the back for your efforts. The Emperor will increase your stipend and finance  _ another  _ house for you,” she answered, absolutely deadpan. “And all you’ll have left to show for it was a dreamy night in my arms in Cauthess, strange stories, strange magic, and no answers.”

She didn’t give him a chance to butt in.  _ “Accept  _ my proposition, and you’ll get a glimmer of truth from the fog. Refuse, and… well. It’s not like you’d be strung up for  _ only  _ bringing Noctis Lucis Caelum before the Emperor, right?”

She smiled wickedly into the receiver. “Do you want to see a taste of Eos you never knew existed, Ardyn?” she purred, allowing the name to roll of her tongue.

Her heart beat four times before his voice returned over the low hum of the airship.  _ “I will see you in Altissia, Sie.” _

“I’ll send you the room number,” she replied, and abruptly ended the call. Once she and Lehko were both out of the large bath and at least mostly decent, Ifrit’s horn was in her hand. She didn’t need her book. Not with Ifrit’s power fueling and directing it instead. Every time she held the damned thing, it felt like it was rewiring her very soul and teaching it how to move in ways not even Phoenix could whisper to her.

Lehko watched soundlessly as Sie cut into her palm. Without a murmur, the wound crackled to life with motes of white light, of crimson electricity, and seductive flames flicking from the cut like hungry tongues. Like a true portal to something  _ else  _ had formed in her hand.

Charged blood trickled into the bath.

Lehko cocked an eyebrow. “No incantations?”

She frowned, focusing as the glowing, burning blood swirled in the depths of the water. “I can feel what I need to do, like…”

The entire tub burst with shimmering flames and light that carried no burning heat. They both winced until the hot lick of divine fire proved it wouldn’t so much as catch on their clothes. Lehko’s eyes widened. “...Like me,” he breathed.

The light in the bath gave way to a shimmering, mirror-smooth gateway. Lehko leaned forward enough to see the water had given birth to a leering eye, staring down upon Eos, past thundering airships, and down upon four young men beset by MTs. He could see their mouths moving, but heard none of the din of battle. 

“What will you do?” Lehko asked reverently. She was barely breaking a sweat, using magic not even possible to any but the most potent of oracles in modern Eos. 

Her hand remained outstretched over the mirror. At its edges, Lehko could see the beginnings of a whirling storm, whose eye was dead-focused on Noctis. The storm crackled with thunder he couldn’t hear, and crimson lightning that split the sky with terrifying, ear-splitting shrieks of power.

He looked up, seeing her eyes had been overcome by white-hot flames. Flames that Lehko  _ recognized. _

The feline paled. “...Phoenix?”

Her grasp upon the horn tightened as the stormclouds spun faster and faster over the battle. White spots of burning blood trickled from between her fingers. Her face twisted into an intent scowl as the air was awash with the scent of  _ fire, fire, fire. _

Looking back into the water, Lehko’s heart leapt into his throat. The stormclouds swirling above the battle had caught fire from the shards of lightning splitting the sky. What had once been clouds thick with lightning and rain were now clouds of backdrafts and raging firestorms. Already, narrow cyclones of naught but blistering, unforgiving flames had touched down and begun incinerating MTs.

The eye of the storm - now seen by four horrified young men - burst into motion at last. It erupted like an inverse volcano, roaring to the earth as a titanic cyclone of fire and ash. Fire that rapidly swayed from red, to orange, to blue, and to white in a blur. Flames that caged Noctis and the others in and, to their visible shock, did not burn them. 

Noctis stared, wide-eyed, as the MTs accosting them were left as little more than carbon sizzling in the molten dirt. The roar of it all was deafening; overtaking even the roar of the airships up above.

Airships that were mostly all in the process of turning into massive ovens as fiery cyclones picked them up and rendered them glowing orange in a matter of minutes. Cooking any occupants inside. Exploding tanks of fuel. Searing liquid holes in reinforced armor. Tossing them away like broken children’s toys.

Only one airship survived the assault long enough to pull back.

When not so much as a wasp remained to threaten the boys, the immense firestorm gave way to naught but a shower of ash and carbon. Nothing but Noctis, Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto survived to witness the destruction, for the storm had extended far enough to annihilate a second round of dropships they’d not seen coming to the aid of the first. 

She closed her fist. The portal closed, leaving behind nothing but cool jungle water.

The light left her eyes.

Sie looked back at Lehko, and then to the horn. Unwilling to let it go, she swapped hands in order to reach for her phone and type one-handed:

><3

 

* * *

 

 

“This is bad! This is really, really bad!” Prompto squeaked. His trigger fingers were getting sore for the first time since he was allowed into the Crownsguard. For every bullet he fired, it felt as if there were two more MTs to match it. How could things have gone wrong so fast? It barely felt like a couple days since they were waving Lehko and Sie off on their own adventures, lighthearted with the promise of their returned friendship. Those two were  _ badass, _ which means that, naturally, the Nifs had to find them. Had to find them just as the giant, electric cat and the god-summoning girl and their respective gnarly AoE would’ve come in  _ so flippin’ handy. _

Noct and Ignis were blurs, both doing their best with their quick weapons to dart and weave to and fro, dropping MT after MT in record time, only for MT after MT to drop out of the ships hovering above them  _ insultingly  _ close. 

“Noct! Warp up into one of the ships and see if you can disable it!” Ignis called, frothing with sweat around the seams. The arrival of the MTs had set them into a lighthearted wager over who could get the highest kill count… until another dropship showed up to raise the stakes. And then another.

“On it!” Noctis called back, and lobbed his sword into the open belly of one of the ships.

To his credit, the ship was diving into the dirt within a couple of minutes. Not that it availed them much. The bulk of the ship’s MTs had already jumped down onto them, but he had, at least, managed to take out five or six with the effort. Better than nothing.

Gladio wasn’t even talking anymore, other than the odd bark or two at them when he thought their attention needed shifting to another pack, or to just  _ not get in the way.  _ He was so focused on racking up kills that he nearly took Ignis’s head off at one point. The only person he was taking much care to avoid clipping was Noct.

Prompto was holding his own extremely well. Enough years breaking his back in the shooting and practice ranges had him comfortably firing round after round so close to the others that any other gunman would have paled and shat .50 cals. Later on, if they were all okay, he’d brag about how many headshots he got, and how he  _ totally  _ got more kills than Gladio, but who’s counting, right?

“I’d give up my own blood if it meant Sie and Lehko were here!” Ignis confessed, words interspersed with harsh panting. He was so drenched with sweat his white shirt was transparent and sticking to his skin. “My own elemancy isn’t going to avail us much!”

Indeed, Ignis had been inspired by Lehko to tap into his magic during the fight, but it was hard to maintain throwing out thundagas and keep things up with his daggers at the same time. It required he steal a particular amount of extra focus that, with being embroiled in close combat with MTs aiming for the jugular, he couldn’t afford to spare. He made a note to ask the mithra about teaching him more magic if they ever saw each other again which, at the rate they were going, didn’t seem likely. Patches of his shirt were bloody from near-misses, his thighs burned, his lungs ached, and every passing moment felt like an extra pound of weight added to his daggers. 

Gladio wasn’t faring much better. He was better suited at handling multiple MTs - one solid sweep of his sword could decapitate three or four if he aimed well. Unfortunately, being built like a brick shithouse made him a bigger target than the others, which had him constantly beset upon at all angles. He’d taken an uneasy couple of hits to his legs, but was running on too much adrenaline and desire to  _ just protect Noct  _ that he didn’t feel it. It wasn’t until a diagonal slash to his chest streaked his belly with fresh blood that he realized he’d taken any damage at all.

Where was Lehko with that damned  _ healing magic?!  _ They were almost out of curatives, and were barely showing any progress. “Why’d we have to let to damned cat leave with her?!” he snarled in frustration, white-knuckling his sword as he made quick work of the MT that nearly unzipped his abdomen like a butcher at a meat market.

Noctis fought his way back to the middle of his fray to rejoin the others. His sword-arm was trembling, and his eyes were unfocused. He was breathing too hard, and couldn’t quite seem to decide on which MT he was going for when he warped here and there. He was leaving them half-dead before he was zooming elsewhere - sloppy in a way Gladio would have to seriously chew him out over later. If they lived.

Prompto’s eyes strayed upward in search of more dropships, only for him to start. “Uh, guys? Guys!”

“What is it, Prompto?!” Ignis snarled, taking out the throat of an MT and earning himself a clean slice to the forearm in the process.

The loudest crack of thunder they’d ever heard shook the earth. The wind had kicked up, and dark clouds that most  _ certainly  _ hadn’t been there a few minutes ago were swirling ominously. Swirling like they did before hurricanes formed. Black-crimson lightning sparked between the evil things as they churned and gusted. Above, the winds were swirling so hard that the remaining ships were beginning to toss and shiver where they hovered.

“It’s that red lightning!” Prompto cried over the growing howl of the storm. “Guys!”

“Does that mean…?” Noctis dared to hope. He ducked out of the way of an MT’s thrust. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the cleverness to note strange weather patterns in the midst of assaulting Noctis and his friends. If they did, they might pause and notice that…

“ _ The clouds are on fucking fire!”  _ Prompto shrieked as the sky ignited with churning orange, blue, and white flames. 

In the periphery of the battle, the clouds weren’t just  _ burning.  _ They were  _ angry.  _ Cyclones erupted from the whirling firestorm and deliberately struck the dropships, knocking them off-kilter as they melted their armor plating and began to turn the ships a familiar shape of toaster-coil orange.

“The flames are melting through the ships!” Ignis observed, wide-eyed. “We have to get out of here! If the MTs won’t kill us, the fire will!”

“Where are we supposed to go?” Noctis groaned. “There’s no end to them!”

Another cyclone touched down on the exterior of a dropship that hadn’t yet opened to release new MTs. It tossed and flailed, before sizzling and turning that same shade of orange… and then crash-landed. Its cargo hold barely managed to open, revealing heaps of dead, half-melted MTs inside.

“Looks like there’s about to be!” Gladio grunted, throwing off two MTs that tried to strike out at him at the same time. 

The rolling thunder above sounded like an over-fueled furnace crossed with the fury of Ramuh himself. The air smelled of molten metal and MTs, of charred earth, and of ash. Yet, even with two ships down, more MTs came from yet another two ships making their way toward their location, regardless of the  _ actual fucking hellfire  _ raining from the sky.

Then, the eye of the coming hurricane descended. For something so enormous, it moved too quickly for them to get out of the way, and all Prompto could do was remember those tornado hunting shows he used to watch. “Get in the middle, guys! Get in the eye of it!” he shouted.

“We’re gonna fry if we do that!” Gladio argued.

“It’s our only chance!” Ignis agreed, falling in line with Prompto and doing everything in his power to watch the fire  _ and  _ the too-stupid-to-flee MTs encroaching on them.

Without options, Gladio and Noctis joined them as the fire came down. They winced.

They didn’t burn. The immense whorl of fire crashed to the earth, surrounding them only, and bathed their vision in light and flames. They couldn’t see the MTs anymore, other than as vague shadows that tried to get closer, but collapsed seconds after getting too close to the inferno. 

“It’s… It’s not even hot,” Noctis breathed, the lights of the fire shining in his eyes. They were being covered in ash, but when he daringly extended his hand to test it, the flames didn’t burn. They felt almost like ghostly feathers on his fingers; tongues licking at his fingertips, but unwilling to so much as catch on his clothes or singe his hair. 

He stuck his hand out a little more and gasped sharply.

“Noct?!” Ignis spun. “Don’t put your hand in the-!”

Noctis pulled back his hand, revealing blue-white flames coating his fingers painlessly, and watched in wonder as it began creeping up his arm. Ignis was about to shuck off his shirt to try to smother the flames when they tripped upon a cut on his arm. A cut they lingered over, and gently healed. Healed, and gently trickled into his skin a burst of rejuvenating energy.

“Put your hand in the fire, guys,” Noctis said, looking meaningfully to them as the clever fire explored under his shirt to find more injuries to heal, and energy to give. “Seriously! It’s-!” His breath hitched. It felt  _ good.  _ Like sliding into a cool pond on a hot day. 

“Wh-whoa! Yeah! Noct’s right! It’s…” Even Prompto couldn’t fully put the words together. White-blue flames danced on his proffered arm and soothed the ache in his forearms from firing his guns. Cuts, bruises, and scrapes disappeared with little more than a tingle of soothing magic. 

Even Gladio gave it a try. The fire that hopped out onto his hand eagerly sought out his injuries and took them away, leaving behind pale pink marks that would disappear in a day or two. Ignis reluctantly followed suit, until his breath caught, too, and he took a moment to close his eyes and groan as the pain of the battle was quite literally wicked away.

“It’s Sie,” Noctis decided, turning at the waist to look back at them. They were gradually breaking ranks to face toward one another, rather than away in their defensive pose. “I swear, it’s Sie. It has to be.”

To punctuate his point, Noctis reached into his pants and pulled out his phone.

>did you do this?

It was that same moment where the firestorm dispersed and the sky, scorched clean of any clouds that may have once been there, opened up for the sun to shine through and reveal exactly  _ how much  _ damage the storm had caused.

With the cyclone of flames disappearing into a messy spire of ash, all that remained within an unfathomable range were molten MTs and trashed dropships. No more seemed to be on their way, given that Noctis couldn’t see the edge of the destruction from where they stood, no matter how hard he tried. “Good gods…” he whistled.

Prompto was snapping pictures while Gladio was merely nodding, eyes wide. 

“We should get out of here while we have the chance, Noct,” Ignis advised, eyes warily scanning the sky. “We don’t know if there are any more imperial ships on their way. Sie may have bought us time, but we cannot afford to dally it away.”

Noctis waited a beat. “Yeah. You’re right,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Who the hell are these people?”

“The more they answer that question, the less sense it makes to me,” Gladio answered.

“H-hey! Guys, look!” Prompto was pointing at the molten remains of an MT that, had the fires not touched down when they had, might’ve been the one to kill him.

On the back of its remains, moving like something out of an episode of Planet Eos, the black char shifted. Within seconds, tiny specks of green poked their way through the ash, growing like a damned time lapse before his very eyes.

Indeed, as they looked out over the blackened destruction, dark ash was brushed aside as little green buds and spears of grass rose forth. Within three minutes, the ground merely looked discolored, as a variety of herbs, flowers, grass, and saplings came to life. 

From the remains of the MTs’ heads, a vast array of  _ birds  _ flew into the sky from beneath their helmets.

Noctis was shaking. 

Ignis was frozen solid.

Gladio was tense.

Prompto was frantically snapping as many pictures as he possibly could, because the firestorm had given him back his dexterity with his fingers.

“Guys, I get that she could use something like Ifrit to make a storm like that, but…” Noctis trailed off, mouth dry. “What can do  _ that, and  _ make stuff grow out of the ashes?”

_ Ding! _

>apparently i get signal where i am now. lemme know if you need another shitstorm for a shitstorm

Staring at the text, he could’ve cried. He drew a shaky sigh and took a quick photo with his phone at the rapidly-growing new life surrounding them. The others were already wading through the rising grass and saplings, but he lingered behind to get a shot of a starling climbing out from beneath an MT’s helmet, surrounded by blossoming wildflowers.

He sent to to her, along with:

>and the fire healed us. wtf sie? and where are you?

He began following the others, all making for cover so as to avoid more imperial ships undoubtedly coming in search of the missing ones that were now, apparently, playing host to animal dens in their cargo holds.

_ Ding! _

>totally making that my background screen. thx

He scowled, nearly tripping over a dead MT on his way toward the others, writing:

>you’re more evasive than ardyn

A low blow, maybe, but that earned him a rapid  _ Ding! _

>woooow

_ Ding! _

>i’m nowhere in range of you, but i can spare some magic to have your backs from time to time

He furrowed his brow, even if her taking offense at the Ardyn comparison was amusing:

>how can you tell?

_ Ding! _

>i’m in dynamis. i can see through the cracks to eos when i need to. tryna be a team player. i’m in yuhtunga jungle rn.

Even with how confusing things had gotten, and how something deep in the pit of Noct’s gut told him that there was even  _ more  _ to Sie than he could see, he was intrigued, writing:

>yuhtunga jungle?

_ Ding! _

>lehko and i are slogging through an old part of eos dating back to before we even called it eos. massive jungle. can’t navigate for shit. you could go river rafting in my boob sweat rn. might get trench foot. 

_ Ding! _

>oh btw, is it cool if lehko can have iggy’s #?

_ Ding! _

>for recipes. of course. 

_ Ding! _

>spicy recipes.

Noctis rolled his eyes and shuddered. Iggy had been his friend since they were little, but it would never stop being  _ weird  _ thinking of him as having any kind of love life. Especially one taking place right in front of him. With a magical cat.

And, to think, Ignis wasn’t even in the same fandom the rest of them were in. 

Sighing and continuing to catch up with the others, Noct quickly punched in Ignis’s cell number into a standalone text to Sie and locked his phone. “We got any idea where a good place to lie low is gonna be?” he asked, falling in line with Prompto.

Ignis was assessing a map on his phone, brow furrowed in concentration as he gradually increased and decreased the view. He was looking for a location with topography safe enough for them to creep through outside of imperial notice, assuming more would be coming soon. There were still a few hours of daylight left, even if they were all officially ready for a bath and a good bed.

_ Ding! _

Ignis nearly jumped out of his skin as an alert popped up over his map of the region. A text, but from a number he didn’t recognize.

>u ok? saw u down there

At first, he had no idea who it was, but only one of two people could possibly know what had taken place on the battlefield.

>I don’t recognize this number. Who is this?

_ Ding! _

>lehko. noctis+sie gave me ur number. 

Ignis felt warmth in his chest and rapidly changed the contact information to Lehko’s name, and then replying:

>We’re all fine. The firestorm somehow healed us. We’re presently avoiding more imperial vessels on our way to meet the Fulgurian. Are you alright?

_ Ding! _

>all fine. wish u were here. theres so much food here uve never seen before. ill text u recipes

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ That was just playing dirty. Ignis wrote back:

>I would like that very much. Are you still intent upon meeting again for the Fulgurian?

Before he received a reply, Ignis made a point of changing his phone settings so his phone only briefly vibrated instead of chimed when Lehko texted. Noctis was giving him a knowing look, while the semi-amused judgment in Gladio’s eyes was making him shrink into the neck of his shirt. 

_ Vrrm. _

>escoring sie somewhere important. 

_ Vrrm. _

>brt after. shell catch up. 

He couldn’t deny a brief rush of giddiness at the thought of seeing Lehko again so soon. Some part of him had convinced him that they wouldn’t see each other for months. Still, his instincts as a retainer begged him to write:

>You’ll leave her there?

_ Vrrm. _

>dont fuss <3 im just a guide. shed be doing it alone if she knew the way

_ Vrrm. _

>fish mithkabob:

bastore sardines

bluetails

nebimonites

shall shells

_ Vrrm. _

>whisk together olive oil, lemon juice, cilantro, crushed garlic, paprika, salt, cumin, tumeric + cayenne pepper. marinade 30 mins. i kinda eyeball the amounts. will go into more detail later tho. those fish are mostly extinct. ill figure out how to substitute some. food 4 thought tho lol

Ignis wasn’t sure why he was blushing at a hastily-written recipe, but he was. It was one thing to send selfies (no matter how intimate), but quite another for Lehko to be sending him something as personally-oriented as recipes. Keeping his recipe book full without treating the others to redundant food throughout their travels had become somewhat of a goal for him. Now, to have Lehko sending him recipes from gods-knew-how-long ago? 

Prompto caught a photo of Ignis’s goony smile.

He texted it to Noct.

Noct smirked and texted it to Sie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, we bear witness to the new song and dance that is Sie distracting Ardyn from being a complete tool.


	12. Don't Tell Shiva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn. Porn, porn, porn. Enjoy your porn, people.

Far off in a dreamworld wreathed in a certain space and certain time, Sie’s phone dinged.

She grinned and immediately forwarded the photo Noct sent her to Lehko.

Lehko’s goony smile matched Ignis’s.

They were in the midst of slogging to the border of Yhoator when the texts started flowing, and when Sie had to keep pestering Lehko about how only _he_ knew the right way there, and _he_ was currently walking them around in circles. “C’mon, Lehko,” she’d sighed. “We passed that same coeurl three times. It’s starting to imprint on you.”

Lehko’s head perked up. He blinked, looking left and right, before he actually _blushed._ “Ah. I seem to have gotten a little… distracted.”

“Well, you can _distract_ his brains out when we’re on the right path,” she elbowed him. “We don’t have a lot of time left toward nightfall, Lehk’, and the chocobos have already gone home. Now, let’s motor, or you’re carrying me the rest of the way.”

“I’m far too big to pass through the tunnels,” Lehko drawled.

She smirked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Dear, I’ve seen it. Don’t boast to someone who knows what you’re packing.”

Lehko tossed his head back and chuckled. He took her hand in the one he _wasn’t_ holding his phone in and tugged her along, knitting their fingers together, and sharing in a fond smile. It was rare that they ever argued or truly grew frustrated with one another. Sie could suffer a few wrong turns if it meant she could see Lehko smile like that some more. There had been flings in the past, but when Lehko was purring at his phone with every message he got? That was something she’d happily nudge in the right direction.

The grass was up to their elbows as they walked. Coeurls mostly dominated the grassy and rocky clearings in the jungle; fortunate, as that meant there were fewer malboros to deal with. Goblins, too. More than one coeurl against anything always meant the smell of something frying, especially on sunny days when the sunbathing was at its most appealing.

It was hot, of course. It was _always_ hot. The clothing Lehko had given her was continuing to prove its worth. Being able to feel airflow under the weskit and on her bare arms made the oncoming sunburns more than worth it. Lehko could heal those things right up, anyway.

“Hey,” she spoke up suddenly. “Did we remember any ice clusters?”

Lehko regarded her. “I believe we have some stowed away. I’ll have to check.”

She paled a little, and grimaced. “If we don’t have any, we’re gonna be waiting _days_ for that damned fire wall to go down. You remember it, right? _Ugh.”_

“Why not just summon and dismiss an ice elemental?” he asked casually. “You could summon four fire elementals at once to take care of those malboros.”

She sucked her teeth, walking past an intrigued coeurl and desperately fighting the desire to pet it. The things were tolerant of her only because they could smell Lehko. “I could try, I guess. The horn gives me a hilarious amount of control over fire, but ice…? I don’t know. Why not just fly over it?”

“Wyverns. Bats. Bombs.”

_“Ah.”_

Hot as it was, she still shouldered her way under Lehko’s arm to lean on him as he guided them through the maze of lava tubes and dangling ferns. They were both drenched in sweat and offensive even to the resident malboros in the jungle. What better way to handle it than to celebrate it by bathing in their own body odor?

Plus, she just really liked cuddles. And the assurance that, if Lehko stumbled into a hole in the ground, she’d go with him. Best not be separated. Even if she quietly hoped they _did_ fall in one, because the longer tunnels were marvelously cool and free of any offending beasts that would  mistake them for an easy meal.

_Ding!_

“Hmm?” she hummed, reaching for her phone. “Must be Nocti- _nope._ Not Noctis.”

“Ardyn, then?” Lehko asked without needing to look.

“I have more friends than those two!”

“You’re right, but Prompto, Ignis, and Gladiolus don’t know your phone number.”

She scoffed and elbowed a laugh out of him. “Ardyn isn’t my _friend,_ at least.”

Lehko’s eyes slid to the chat field open on her phone. He grinned and pointed. “Gentleman caller, then.”

“What?!” she blurted, and actually looked at her phone.

>The Spearfish. 7:00. Choose a day.

She stared at it for a long moment. “He does love asserting control, doesn’t he?”

“You were quite ambiguous with your plans, I will say that much,” Lehko shrugged. “At least he didn’t book the hotel room.”

“Only because I said I would be the one to book it,” she snorted, forgetting herself and petting the coeurl that came up to sniff her hands, which still smelled faintly of their breakfast mithkabobs. Luckily, it seemed appreciative of the little touch, and let its long, electrically-charged whiskers pulse enough for her to give Lehko a small shock. Lehko merely purred.

“Well?” Lehko nudged, reaching around to give the coeurl a little pet. “You ought to reply before he decides to book that, too.”

Sie sighed and wrote:

>been awhile since my last visit to altissia. dress code?

_Ding!_

>Try to appear presentable, and not like you’re about to march off to war.

Lehko began to snicker under his breath. “Some~one has a daaate…”

“Purely for the sake of manipulating him out of the way,” she huffed.

“Then why the hotel room?”

“Because I might _fuck him,_ too.”

“At least you’re admitting it.” He gave her head a patronizing pat. “I knew I raised you well.”

“It’s not as if I’m worried about him killing me,” she said, shrugging a shoulder and writing:

>waterfront view?

_Ding!_

>Naturally.

Lehko caught her smirking and ruffled her hair. “How adorable. Sleeping with the enemy. I just can’t get over it.”

She laughed and shoved him. “You’re not gonna get over that creek if you don’t stop teasing,” she said, pointing to a small river and a well-worn log lying over it. The two took a moment of seriousness as they balanced along it. Their new coeurl friend seemed similarly inclined to walk along the log after them.

Once on stable ground and dancing out of the way of silly young electro-cats, she wrote:

>what kind of food?

_Ding!_

>Sushi. I would rather avoid anything charbroiled for awhile. Wouldn’t you agree?

She cracked up loud enough to echo through the jungle. She showed her phone to Lehko.

The regal feline giggled to himself. “Sweet, how he tries to avoid admitting you gave him the ride of his life.”

Sie cocked an eyebrow. “I might just give him that in Altissia, if he behaves.”

“You know he won’t.”

“Which is why I’m the one to judge what ‘behaves’ means,” she chortled, writing in response:

>perfect. been there before?

_Ding!_

>Why, yes. Their unagi is divine.

They had to stop walking so Sie could double up and guffaw.

The young coeurl didn’t stop its following until they were through into Yhoator Jungle. Even with all of the flailing, chattering, and food-like behavior Sie displayed, the young female merely followed along. “She’s young,” Lehko said. “Hasn’t had her first heat yet.”

Sie glanced over her shoulder at it. “Explains why she fancies you. Let her down gently.”

Lehko rolled his eyes, snagged Sie under the arms, and sat her down across the smaller cat’s back. “There. Now you can stare at your phone without walking into any wasps. You’d think you’d notice them, given they’re all bigger than your head. You have a true talent for ignorance.”

“Save your flirting for Ignis,” she clucked, shooting him a wink. Really, she was glad for him being there. The younger coeurl didn’t seem that thrilled with carrying Sie at first. That was, until Lehko purred at her. _Then_ the coeurl was carrying her like she was trained to.

She didn’t want to guess how long they had before they even reached the foot of Ifrit’s Cauldron. The jungles of the Elshimo region were maddening at best, and hellish at worst. Mithra were the only folk that were even remotely cut out for it, while every other race that existed at the time did well to keep a guide nearby for protection… and sanity. One needed a guide to so much as understand the damned maps.

“I cannot discern a single difference between Yuhtunga and Yhoator,” Sie decided after three more hours of walking. If they really wanted to, they could keep traveling well into the night. The temperatures the jungle could reach made it appealing - the thought of sleeping during the day half-submerged in a stream. They would’ve done so, too, if Lehko didn’t have an unreasonable paranoia of being caught by leeches. Leeches that grew to be the size of one of Gladiolus’s medicine balls.

Lehko was holding up a tree branch for her and the coeurl to duck under. “More ancient mithra tribes made up the borders before Kazham came into being.”

“Really?”

“That, or local cartographers got frustrated and decided that they would make two maps for two halves of this region.”

She cocked an eyebrow, wishing she could moogle it. “Is that true?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“You’re older than I am!”

“But not older than Vana’diel. My whiskers haven’t gone grey yet, Shanriri.”

She rolled her eyes and shifted on the young coeurl’s back, a pang of concern pricking her conscience. “Haven’t we gone kind of far? Shouldn’t she have a territory or something?”

“Not at her age,” Lehko replied handily, shaking his head. “Now is the age in an adolescent coeurl where they strike out away from their birthplaces in search of their own territory. She would easily have traveled this far without us. And, _yes,_ I’ll feed her.”

She hadn’t even needed to ask. Sie beamed and leaned over to kiss Lehko’s cheek. “You just want a surrogate for when you and Ignis want kittens.”

“I _will_ make more Ardyn jokes if you aren’t careful, Shanriri,” he tutted, ruffling her hair as she sat upright. “Let me think… Do you think the first would be more red-violet or red? We’ll only know if we hold them up to the light. And will its eyes be copper or gold?”

“Ardyn has hazel eyes.”

_“Got you.”_

Sie flung up her hands. “Dammit, Lehko! I had to make a lot of eye contact with the guy!”

“Were you in public? I’m shocked you weren’t arrested.”

 _“Okay,_ okay,” she sighed, shaking her head… and glancing down at her phone. She hadn’t yet replied to his text. Leaving him hanging for a few hours was trick enough to have any man twitching toward his phone with every notification. Screwing with him was almost more fun than breaking the speed limit on the Alicorn.

Almost.

 

* * *

 

 

Night fell and so, too, did the sky open up and crack with lightning and thunder.

Sie, Lehko, and their new hanger-on took refuge inside one of the lava tubes leading closer to Yhoator. To test the new power given to her by Ifrit’s horn, Falbub, Sie conjured up a fire elemental in place of building a fire; an exercise in futility. One of the things that made the jungles so perilous to travel through was the lack of dry wood to burn.

And so, to the sound of the storm, Lehko, the coeurl, and Sie sat together before the warm light of the elemental. They sacrificed a few chunks of meat and fish they had stashed away to the coeurl. She was a thin thing, even for one of her species, and her youth showed in how bold she was in curling up behind them and allowing Sie to gently stroke between her ears. The hair on her arm stood on end for it. Coeurls and toramas usually sparked when they were content.

“Weird, being out here without a haven,” Sie broke the comfortable silence as they ate. “Avoiding the night became second-nature too fast for my liking. That scourge shit is _disgusting.”_

Lehko hummed and nodded. “I have to admit, there are times where I want to stay here even longer, and never return to the outside realm. Things were simpler these days. Beastmen required sleep, and the Kindred were more easily avoided. It felt more like an ecosystem than cells eluding an infection.”

“I hope it’s better once I’m gone,” she whispered. “If you and Ignis become a thing, I wouldn’t mind my wedding present to you two being a romantic moonlit walk in Galdin. Practice yourselves some kittens in the cover of night.”

Lehko let out a breathy laugh, bearing a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. He pulled his knees to his chest and knotted his fingers together. “It will never be worth it, but… I take some solace in knowing nobody else will know that.”

Her eyes flicked to him in a sidelong glance. Falbub was in her hands, earning her the rapt attention of the fire elemental as she spun it, over and over, along her palms. “Do you think there’s an afterlife for Ifrit?”

“No,” Lehko replied, refusing to sugarcoat it. “Where can an Astral go when he’s murdered by the others? If I had to guess, I would imagine he endured what you will. A fractured soul.”

She winced for more than one reason. “I hope, if he’s awake somehow, that he’s not in pain. For my sake as well as his.”

His fingers closed around her shoulder. The fire of the elemental danced in his eyes as he fixed her with a look full of meaning. “There will be no pain, Shanriri. It will be so quick and subtle.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that. It has to be.”

“I hope he and I find each other, if we’re both awake somewhere.” His macabre reassurance didn’t seem to register much, going by how she seemed half in a trance as she rolled Falbub in her hands and stared blankly into the white-hot core of the elemental. “Maybe the Goddess will…”

She sucked in a heavy breath. “No,” she chided herself. “Getting my hopes up won’t do anyone any good. When the crystal breaks, that’s that.”

Lehko’s touch to her shoulder slid down her back, only to fall away entirely. His ears were flat, and his usual dreamy, bedroom eyes turned mirthless. “Very well,” he conceded. “I love you, Shanriri. I hope you carry that with you, always.”

She smiled a little, but it was only half-genuine. “I love you, too, Lehk’.”

It wasn’t long after that where they readied themselves for bed. The fire elemental lingered nearby, constantly alert to anything that wandered too close. The coeurl slept beside them, her larger body forming a comforting bubble of warmth between Shanriri and the elemental. Purring, and the low, pulsing hum of the lingering elemental almost succeeded in drowning out the other noises in the night. Being a jungle, all manner of creatures came out at night. On some nights, it seemed Yhoator was louder at midnight than midday. It was hypnotic, if not a little eerie.

Sie couldn’t sleep. She lay awake between Lehko and the coeurl. He slept facing away from her, keeping his tail wrapped around her thigh as a small gesture of reassurance and comfort, while Sie stared up at the ceiling with her phone in her hands, set to silent. She could’ve probably kept it on with the volume low, for how loud Yhoator was already.

The chat field was empty. After the one phone call, she hadn’t tried to reach out to it again. It felt like weeks ago that she’d picked up the phone to that unfamiliar number; felt like weeks that she felt hopeful, squashed inside of a tiny airship bathroom. Felt like the warmth in her chest was enkindled by the real owner of the voice in her ear, rather than Falbub resting on her chest.

She felt sick, staring at that number. Garuda’s words rang harsh and clear. It wasn’t him. Not really. Just that repugnant infection wearing his skin as a suit, in desperate need of destruction, with no chance at resurrection. Phoenix would be hard-pressed to revive the illusion of an Astral when there was no spare scraps of him to sew together again.

When she thought of it, she felt him. He was there, hiding within her and leering just as much at the phone as she was.

Gods; how was she going to break _that_ tidbit of news to Noctis?

Why did she feel obliged to?

Why did it matter?

Damned endearing children. Ten years to the end, and _that’s_ when she has the little shits imprinting on her like ducklings. Sie locked her phone and flung her arm over her eyes, the muscles in her jaw clenching. So many untruths; so many lies drenching lies. They knew well enough that there were a variety of factors that could potentially derail the big plan. Lehko had invented a myriad of lies to tell so that, even when called out for lying, the truth hid among them.

She was the little girl that swallowed the star. The star torn asunder by Bahamut. The star that sought vengeance against the Draconian. The star that would return the ancient Avatars to Eos and usher in a Renaissance of magic returning to the world!

The star that would bring about Ragnarok.

Not for long, at least, and Odin would be doing most of the work. The tricky part of _that_ tidbit was in keeping, “End of the world,” aligned with, “but only while Phoenix does that thing he’s famous for. Remember, guys? That rebirth thing? Remember? It’ll be fine! Please put the swords away!”

 _Ugh._ Why did the truth have to feel so hard when she discovered people whose opinions she actually gave a damn about? Especially with how friendly Lehko had gotten with Ignis.

She picked up her phone.

>hey noctis, what would you say if i told you i was the bringer of the apocalypse followed shortly by the rebirth of the world?

She didn’t send it. Just as quickly as she’d clumsily typed it out, she deleted the text, locked her phone, and dropped it back to her chest. Ten years was a long time, and there was still so much to _do._ She would give her horn just for a chance to speak with Ifrit and seek his counsel. The Infernian had always been a source of comfort and many different kinds of pleasure for her. They hadn’t met often, but each time was always full of passion and intrigue. He educated her. Whispered truths of the Astrals that none of the others would have spoken aloud.

Ifrit…

She sighed, gazing upon Falbub. That damned horn. The only piece of Ifrit she had left had consumed the forefront of her mind. She could scarcely put it down. She even favored it during mealtimes, when she should’ve put it away. It was all that gave her solace.

How she’d grown to love him, but only after he’d been taken away.

Perhaps it was for the best she had been taken away to Dynamis. When the Astrals assaulted and killed him, she knew she’d happily raise her blade in his defense. She would’ve happily fought and died if it meant preserving his divine life and light. He was more than worth the effort.

 _Gods,_ if only…

The horn thrummed, as if sensing her grief. It grew hot enough to make her skin flush pink, even beneath her weskit. It was resting over her heart.

_What if…?_

It was a hunch, and nothing that would cost her anything if it proved false. Taking Falbub in hand, Sie gently extricated herself from Lehko’s tail and got to her feet.

Lehko shifted, cracking one eye open with a sleepy, concerned frown. “What’s that?”

“Just need to take a leak,” she lied, rubbing his hip reassuringly. “Be right back.” Another potential lie.

Lehko hummed and nodded, and curled back up before the cheery fire of the elemental. Sharing a moment of mutual purring between himself and their new coeurl friend, he was out like a light in seconds.

She snuck away to an alcove adjacent to their camp. It wasn’t far, but it was private, and sported two little spring-fed ponds cool enough to stave off the daytime heat, but warm enough not to bring about a nasty chill when she dipped her fingers in it.

She undressed, knowing it would be crucial to hide the evidence of her idea, as to avoid unnecessary fussing from Lehko. It didn’t seem like too terrible an idea. Phoenix certainly didn’t fuss and turn against it. If he disagreed, he would’ve made his opinion known the moment the thought crossed her mind. She even dared to wonder if he blessed her idea.

It would hurt, but it was pain wrapped in hope.

She took Falbub and aimed it toward her heart.

Knowing well the kind of force it took to drive a blade through her own heart, she forced the horn deep into her breast, scraping between ribs, and piercing her heart. Falbub cauterized the wound instantly, but it was enough that she collapsed, dead in an instant, with Falbub still lodged in her chest.

 

* * *

 

 

She’d died before. It was somewhat an inevitability when one had lived as long as she had. Five thousand years was a long time to go without a few accidents now and then. Phoenix was always more than happy to make sure such accidents were never permanent.

But, she did not awake from the momentary darkness that befell her. During the span of such darknesses, it was often Phoenix that took control and ensured she was roused safely and swiftly.

This time, when her eyes opened, she was somewhere else. Not Dynamis, but some sort of… limbo, it felt like. A half-dream that frayed and wobbled at the edges.

She was in Ifrit’s Cauldron, at the site of his old throne.

Were her heart beating, it would’ve done cartwheels.

“Ifrit?” she called out, her voice warped in the strange middle-place she stood in. The Cauldron should’ve taken her breath away from its ever-churning, hot winds from the many vents that dotted the place, yet she felt nothing. She felt no temperature at all. It was all just a ghostly vision of a real place.

“Ifrit? Are you here?” she tried again, her hope faltering slightly. Perhaps Falbub bore a mere fragment of the old Astral’s memory of his first seat.

A hand fell on her shoulder. Hot to the touch.

She spun.

Red eyes peered upon her, accented by familiar bronze skin, obsidian hair, and sweeping horns.

A beautiful, familiar face peered down at her.

Her heart did cartwheels. Tears pooled in her eyes. “...Ifrit?” she whispered, feeling like a little child again. A girl of twelve, both too proud to feel intimidated, and too overwhelmed with excitement at the Astral’s presence to be frightened.

When he caressed her cheek, she _knew,_ and flung her arms around his middle. She wept tears that sizzled against his skin, uncaring that it stung to touch him. The scar of his bite on her shoulder throbbed. “I knew you weren’t gone! Garuda was wrong!” she cried, holding him tighter.

His hand fell to her back, gently petting her. She was naked as she had been when she drove Falbub into her chest, but felt no shyness. She seldom did, but with Ifrit, she definitely felt not a twinge of modesty. He didn’t wear clothing, either. Much too hot, in more ways than one.

He knelt. He projected himself as being much taller than her - inhumanly so, but not gigantic. He was just a hint taller than her when he knelt, not including the height of his horns as they curled back to follow the length of his dark hair.

 _“Shanriri…”_ His voice was a scant murmur compared to the royal crackle and rumble of his living voice. A voice that sounded like fire and scalding earth. _Gods,_ how she’d missed it. “ _...How?”_

She turned her head up, tears still trickling from her chin, and smiled in a way that made his face soften. He caressed her cheek, more tender with her than with anyone else, and knitted his brow together in obvious worry. _“Dead…?”_

She didn’t care to explain just yet. She rose up and kissed him, relishing the sting as she fell into his arms and hugged him for everything she was worth. Hugged and kissed him until he couldn’t help but reciprocate; his touches tender, and kisses full of deep, desperate longing.

When she pulled away, she sniffled and smiled all the more. “Garuda found a piece of your horn,” she explained through a abundant cracks in her voice. “I drove it into my heart to find you. I _knew_ you were there. It had to be you! Carrying it with me has given me so much strength, Ifrit. It’s taken away so much of the pain of summoning. _Oh…”_

She kissed him again, weeping all the more, and smiling against his mild frown. Nevertheless, he returned her kisses and held her so close the entire front of her body was flushed pink. _“Shanriri…”_

She leaned back and sniffled again, her face flushed. “I love you,” she whispered. “I never had the chance to say it, but it’s true! I’ve… Even with just a piece of you, you’ve been giving me so much strength, Frit. Right now, we’re on our way to the old Cauldron in Dynamis so I can forge your horn into a proper athame. I named if Falbub.”

He couldn’t help but laugh a frail laugh, sounding like the heart of a fire elemental. _“Shanriri…”_ he purred more affectionately, wiping her tears away and carding his long, delicate fingers through her hair. _“My Shanriri…”_

“Lehko and I have been doing fine,” she reported. “We’re back in the world again. Ten more years before the big day. I wonder…”

She looked at her feet, staring at the charred, blackened stone beneath them and feeling her heart clench. “If I can find you here, then there may be some hope I can find you again. After, I mean. Once it’s all over. Nobody knows what’s going to happen to me, but if the Astrals could break you up like this, then maybe it will be the same for me!”

Her eyes popped up to him again, shining copper with a wan kind of hope. She touched his cheek, just as soft as she remembered, and he cradled her hand against it with one of his. So much bigger, yet as tender as that one night they’d shared, where she’d earned the scar on her shoulder. “Frit,” she breathed, using his old name from before he’d become an Astral. “I would give up an entire afterlife if it meant I didn’t have to leave you. You always made me so happy to see you, and you always had the best ideas, and made the best fun. And you always got me into _so_ much trouble,” she laughed.

He touched his finger to her lips to quiet her. She was unloading far too much for her own mind to take. Unloading it like it was the last time she could tell him how she felt… which wasn’t untrue. Perhaps using Falbub was a one-time deal. Perhaps this would be the last time.

 _“Shanriri,”_ he breathed, rumbling voice laced with gentle affection unheard of by any but a special few. _“I have a thought.”_

Her eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t speak from beneath his hushing finger.

_“I am pieces, but myself.”_

She nodded.

_“So shall you be.”_

She wasn’t sure of that. Nobody was, but she nodded all the same.

 _“Do this again when the time comes,”_ he murmured. _“Do this, and we may share. Mix.”_

He withdrew his hand to allow her room to speak. She seemed stunned by such a notion. “You mean, with what pieces of my mind I may have left, we could… merge?”

He nodded. _“It may come to pass, Shanriri. Then, we shall be whole. We shall return. The Infernian returned; a throne shared, just like…”_ His mouth pulled into a lascivious smirk.

Despite her better nature, she flushed and looked away with the most sweet, awkward little smile she’d ever had. She even rubbed the scar on her shoulder. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a repeat of that. But…”

She looked back up at him, distress painting the edges of her eyes. “If we merge together, we’ll never be able to do _that_ again. I know having one of you mixed with me makes it feel like you’ve got an internal hug going on all the time, but Phoenix and I haven’t exactly experimented with much else.”

Again, he shushed her, his red eyes pinning her pin place. _“We are here. Joined. One mind. That will not change, and you will always find me in your dreams, just like this.”_

He had a point. Hope fluttered in her chest again. She nodded, hand coming up to idly brush against the magnificent bracelets adorning his wrist. If he was right, he would be there in her dreams, and always in her thoughts, and five thousand years in Dynamis had taught her validity of a dream. In fact…

She leaned away from his finger. “We could meet in Dynamis!” she gasped, feeling like a young girl discovering a way to sneak away with her lover at night. “Maybe, anyway… If the dead Avatars can manifest there, then you could, too. Maybe. Fuck, I’m just happy to see you,” she laughed, pushing her hair out of her face. “Remind me to kill myself more often!”

He shook his head, a helpless smile appearing on his sharp, cunning features. _“My Shanriri,”_ he breathed, a plume of smoke rising from his lips as he spoke her name with more affection than she’d ever heard from him.

He kissed her like the Astral of Passion he was, pulling her into his arms while manifesting himself shorter and better suited to cradling her, as he had once done. His tongue seared its way into her mouth, but cooled when she flinched. She couldn’t help a moan after that, and let her legs go out from under her so he could decide how they would stand.

“Once more,” she begged, cradling his face in her hands and searching his eyes. Red as the lowest of embers. “We only ever managed once before, and I don’t know how long I have here before we wake again.”

A rumble of assent was all the confirmation she needed. In an instant, his ornate throne erupted from the molten stone, just like the first time. He scooped her up and sat them down, cherishing her in his lap as his hands roved over her and their kisses turned searing again. Her arms were around his neck, and his hands were beneath her thighs, drawing her in closer.

Gods above and below, he was just as magnificent as she remembered. He moved and handled her so easily, she almost believed they’d done it a thousand times before. He had one hand on her back, gently tilting her away, while coaxing her hips closer. Trusting him implicitly, she allowed herself to go lax, with her arms looped lazily around his neck as he slid a hand between them.

His fingers were hot. Hot in a way that made every part of her flush pink when he tickled his fingertips along her breasts. She jumped and gasped when he used extra heat to sting her nipples, before toying with them in that perfect, perfect way that made her bite her lip and try to squeeze her thighs shut. Not that she could hide the sudden gush of her fluids from him, with how she pressed flush against the underside of his cock.

He stung her with heat in every sensitive spot he could reach, until her eyes were welling up with overstimulated tears. She panted and keened when the little biting sting touched the ancient scar on her neck. _His_ scar. It practically ignited with his playful magic flooding them; reminding her tender skin he’d been there before, and making the scars even come alight with smoldering gold.

 _“Frit!”_ she cried. He kissed her hard, stealing her breath. Those tears of overstimulation finally fell down her cheeks when he trailed sparks of red-hot heat under her arm. She convulsed, trying to squeeze his hips with her legs and bucking her hips against him. It earned her a roaring, smoldering growl from around her lips and down her throat. She was sweating so much she was surprised she didn’t slip out of his hands.

“Don’t make me beg,” she pleaded. “I’ve waited _so_ long for you. _Please,_ Frit!”

The hand responsible for her torment slid down, cupping her ass and slowly lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Her ragged breathing turned shaky with frantic anticipation when she slid up high enough for his cock to shift and press against her entrance. _Gods above and below,_ he was hot. Hot enough to pull a trembling wail from her lips as he entered her, and slowly slid her down and onto his length. Almost too big, and hot enough for warmth to flood her belly.

The arms around his neck constricted. She caught hold of one of his sweeping horns running down his back, needing every bit of its support as he bottomed out like he was meant to be there. The burn made her abundantly aware of the neglected little spot deep within her. It had been quite awhile since she’d been touched there. Leave it to Ifrit to finally break that fast.

She locked her ankles around his hips, the position slightly difficult due to the back of the throne behind him, but she needed all the leverage she could get. Ifrit felt her thighs flex as she attempted to lift herself back up, but pinched her hips in his hands to hold her still. He wanted to shift back; give her more room to settle on him, and give enough space for him to be able to _look_ at her.

Always so composed, and always ready with a joke or insane anecdote to keep people on their toes with her, Sie - Shanriri - was at a loss. Her eyebrows knitted together as he held her in his strong grip and took all control away. She could hold his shoulders, but trying to poise her knees on his stone throne hurt.

Her gasp was broken and ragged when he lifted her off him, and then guided her down again; the head of his cock brushing against her spot in a way that made her eyes water all the more, and her head fall back in wonder. She shivered with each touch, trembling and holding him desperately as he drew her up and down, up and down, up and down.

“Wrecked” was a good name for it. Nobody had ever seen her quite so unraveled, save for him. She cherished either side of his neck with her palms, babbling incoherently. Tracks of tears glistened on her cheeks, but not from grief this time. He watched her with a blistering hunger as he lifted and lowered her faster, watching her hair come undone and hang about her face, long strands covering her breasts and sticking to her skin. Positively vulgar sounds came from deep in her throat.

She didn’t care to warn him. It’s not as if it would deter him. Sie’s lips parted to let out a shattered cry, caught in his hungry mouth, as she slammed down around him in a grip so tight it even caused _him_ to falter for an instant.

Even after she came, she bawled for him. She was overwhelmed and overstimulated, but relished the way every time her thrust into her felt like he was coaxing slumbering parts of her to waking. She kissed him feverishly, gasping sharply with every motion, and completely drenching him in her juices.

She heard the snarling roar of a thousand bonfires around her, all coming from him, when he came apart as deep within her as he could strike. It _burned_ for an instant, drawing a harsh, heady keen from her until he cooled inside her.

She collapsed forward, only barely remembering to turn her head so as to not gouge his chest with her horn. He held her in his arms, silent for a long time; his eyes gently shut, and fingers tangled loosely in her damp hair.

After many breathless, blissful moments, she smiled to herself. “Absolutely worth dying for,” she whispered. “You always were.”

Even if it had been quick, and without much foreplay, it was a start. They had both _needed_ such a firm, straightforward romp. They had both needed to feel each other out, and to rekindle old memories. To remind themselves of why they would go so far as fusing their own souls in the name of never losing each other again.

There would be time for more, they knew. They would go slow and deep, with them both reacquainting each other to more touch and taste. She’d quite literally die a hundred deaths if it meant seeing him each time. He had always been somewhat of an escape for her, when she was young, and before she’d been forced to retreat to Dynamis. Before Solheim. Before the Six murdered him. Before the starscourge wore his skin to draw her out.

There would be time to address that later. The thought was fleeting, no matter how difficult, for she was too preoccupied listening to his heart. It sounded like a bonfire, full of wavering sounds of superheated air, and the crackling and popping of its fuel. He was warm, and even though death would rob her of her need to sleep, post-orgasmic bliss and the sensation of having the god she loved beneath her made her dream of a day when these things would come easily. Where all it took was dozing off to feel him and see him again. Having lived in a dreamworld for the vast majority of her life, a dream was as real to her as anything else.

It would do. They would make it work. Eos needed its Infernian, and so did she.

 

* * *

 

 

If time in the strange in-between place coincided with time in Dynamis, she was grateful for it. She’d dozed off for a time against Ifrit’s chest, waking to the gentle brush of his fingertips through her hair and down her back. Just like the first time.

The first time had been about as wonderful as losing one’s virginity could be, save for her own self-inflicted hiccups. Starting drunk hadn’t been her brightest idea. She’d wanted him. Badly. Since she was sixteen or so and fully realizing that the deity she frequently spent her time getting into trouble with was also viciously attractive. He’d once saved her from a wyvern attack by setting the damned things alight with a mere wave of his hand, and he’d stood and watched them turn to bitter carbon before he released her from where he’d had her pinned against his side.

He’d picked up on her sudden shift in feelings toward him early on. She’d been finding excuses to visit him more often; luring him into telling her stories “to record” into one of her old books, and then never writing a letter. Or, if she did, it started off her usual fancy calligraphy, and derailed itself into cursive scribbling to make her hand look busy when, really, she was just appreciating the curve of his pectorals or the alluring curve of his lips when he told her something particularly brutal or salacious.

He’d called on her on her eighteenth birthday, just like she always said to people who asked. She stole away from Lehko after he’d fallen asleep, also drunk on the same swill he’d unrepentantly stolen in the name of celebrating with her. The poor old cat always slept like a rock if he was deep in his cups.

She’d ventured out into the night - a time where there was no such thing as the daemons known in Eos now - and disappeared into the forest around the small home they’d made for themselves. Ifrit’s summons felt like a blossom of heat running along the column of her throat, growing warmer when she was following the right way to him.

He’d called her to a rocky overhang overlooking the sea, hidden by an even larger overhang above it. The path down to their secret meeting place was nothing but a jagged line of shale running along a stone wall descending lower and lower along the cliff. She was so drunk she nearly fell into the sea when the breeze kicked up and made her head spin.

His throne was there, pressed against the rocky wall, bathed in the shadow of the overhang above, and looking out over the moonlit waters in the distance. A fire already crackled and roared before him, and dozens of fire elementals were dancing around him like greedy children looking for sweets. They’d burn brighter and hotter when they drew close enough to him to touch.

Wobbly from the drink, and flushed from seeing the object of her silly teenage crush, she’d practically tripped over herself just to meet him at his throne. He’d shown up nearly in his full glory, towering higher than most buildings, and leaning lazily against one arm of the grand stone seat while he watched her bashfully sidle up to him. It was a miracle she’d remembered to bring her grimoire, if for no better reason than to keep up appearances.

She hiccuped gracefully and pinched one eye closed. “Not sure I’ll be able to write very well tonight,” she murmured at him, her voice only barely carrying over the many different crackles and roars of fires and elementals. “I had… a lot of wine… and not nearly enough water.”

Even if she collected stories from him, it was by a great deal of effort. He was a creature of precious few words, only ever managing a sentence or two at most between bouts of long, quiet moments or action. It proved a good project to work on… when she was sober.

Now, she knew she stood no chance at discerning details from his stunted words. It made her heart sink. She never managed to upset or disappoint him before, and the booze running rampant through her brain was making a steady progress toward convincing he would be. She was a happy drunk, but Ifrit made her fixate on things she wouldn’t normally fixate on with anyone else. Too much hero worship, she supposed.

He extended his hand to her, large enough to pick her up as easily as she could pick up a garden snake. She sat on his palm, the heat of his skin radiating through the thin linen pants she’d only barely remembered to wriggle into. They were Lehko’s, and didn’t fit well. They rode down her hips as she tried to seat herself steadily in his hand.

With only a little bit of yelping and wobbling, she sat admirably still as he hoisted her up and brought her in to sit on the arm of his throne, next to where he had his elbow propped, head in hand. She felt uneasy, though it might’ve just been the wine in her mostly-empty stomach. She swallowed hard, eyeing him and biting on her lower lip. “I feel rather useless, but I’m happy to see you,” she said, voice cracking with nerves.

Then, in a brief flash of flames and light, he was sitting beside her, the same size as a man tall enough to be imposing, but not so tall as to seem unnatural. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in until they were sat hip-to-hip, looking out over the coast to the silvery horizon on the waves. She let out an ungainly peep when she felt herself pulled flush to his side, face turning red.

And then, with his hot hand cupping her cheek, he turned her head around to steel a soft, steady kiss. One that carried absolute certainty behind it, even if she smelled of wine and not much else. Trees, possibly. She’d had to walk through the woods to get there.

And she had gasped, nearly passing out just from trying to discern if she was dreaming. He made the truth abundantly clear when his clever tongue teased her lower lip with enough heat to sting. The sting made her gasp again, which dispelled any illusion of chasteness in his kiss. She melted in his arms as he kissed her deep and longingly, unoffended by second-hand wine or the way she had almost no wit to help her meet him.

He hadn’t minded. They both knew he was the closest to any object of desire she’d ever had. She wanted him. Had wanted him for years. Having grown into such a clever wit and sly, foxish beauty, he’d decided on his own to indulge her. To indulge himself with her. To kiss her awkward lips and teach her to slot her mouth against his and copy the way he lapped at her mouth, nibbled her lip, and fiendishly stole every breath and moan she made.

It was languid. Easy. He needed no Astral magic to make fire rage in her blood, or make her climb into his lap and loop her arms around his neck. He forgave her fumbling and used his hands to show her how to roll her hips to best stroke herself on his thigh. He stroked and petted her back while easing up and letting her have a try at guiding their kisses.

He wouldn’t send her away for being too drunk for him. Ifrit helped smooth away her drunkenness by kissing and teaching; by helping her find her rhythm in rocking against him and making sure Lehko never looked at those pants the same way again. He teased her with hot fingertips finding sensitive places to sting with each press of her hips on his thigh.

When virginal lust and need overtook the wine, he coaxed her away, his piercing, red eyes searching her face before he rucked up her threadbare tunic and cast it away. She blushed and bit her sore, kiss-bruised lip, but didn’t tear her eyes from him. She was brazen that way… until he began to play with heat on her breasts and tease stunned gasps out of her when he pinched her nipples with the perfect heat that stung, brought tears to her eyes, and went straight to her groin.

He did that everywhere, until her body was marked with suspiciously hand-shaped welts that would take days to go down. Until she was panting, eyelashes dripping with dew, with a flushed face, and lips that couldn’t stay closed for want of air. He helped her out of Lehko’s trousers and banished them along with her tunic and shoes.

She’d pleasured herself before, but never by putting something inside. There was hardly anything appropriately shaped she could keep with her without Lehko raising an eyebrow, and the few times she’d tried with her fingers pinched and, overall, felt uncomfortable and subpar to stroking herself.

Ifrit, however, knew better. He stroked her with the tips of his hot fingers, calling more sensitivity to the bud beneath his middle finger. He knew how to have her shivering and moaning in his ear, clinging to him for dear life, without overstepping and leading her into a too-quick climax. He kept at it until she was whimpering and pleading, with her thighs completely soaked, and his fingers glossy with her fluids. It was the first time she’d heard him truly rumble, like some kind of divine groan filtered through flames within him.

His finger had slipped into her with barely a flinch. Then, it was heat unlike anything she’d felt before igniting her every nerve. She’d bucked and gasped, and barely noticed when a second finger entered her without so much as a pinch. He gently thrust into her, in and out, guiding her to gingerly rock herself up and down into his hand.

She was stone-cold sober when he finally curled his fingers and hit her spot. She saw white for an instant, and found her lips crushed to his as he swallowed up her shocked cry of pleasure. He moaned for her, feeling how she clenched down on his fingers.

Feeling him poised at her entrance - _the real thing -_ made her shudder with both want and fear. She convinced herself it would hurt, and he could see that in the abrupt trepidation shining in her copper eyes.

He kissed her again, holding her that way and breathing into her as he coaxed her down. He’d drawn away the heat he’d teased her with, leaving only dizzying warmth that soothed the ache of her first time. It was an ache she found herself welcoming, all the way to when she sat firmly in his lap, feeling full in a way she’d never felt before.

He kissed her once more, petting and stroking every inch of her while she relaxed on him. While she melted and moaned without any motion at all. Her fingers were tangled in his long, dark hair, and catching on the very roots of his horns. He cupped her ass with a playful heat in his palms that would leave pink handprints on her skin, and slowly pulled upward.

She trembled, biting her lip as she was lifted off him. The emptiness pained her more than when he’d first entered her, making her squirm and stifle shaky, jagged breaths as he withdrew, leaving only the very tip of his cock inside.

He waited for her to catch her breath, and then lowered her back down again; angle striking the spot inside her with dizzying heat that made her gasp and moan into his mouth. He coaxed her up and down, sluggish and cautious. Breaking her in. Letting her _feel,_ until she pleaded, “Ifrit… _please,”_ in a voice she never knew she could make.

She was deliciously honest with him - a trait that made him rumble and sigh. Even if she knew how to mask how she felt, she wouldn’t. Going faster was painful at first, but he knew how to move her hips and angle his thrusts for pleasure to wipe it away. For her to learn how it felt to throw back her head and cry out to the heavens and the sea. For her to spread tears down her cheeks when he struck her _just so,_ and for him to feel her bear down around him, soak them both, and let out a broken, choked sob as she came around him.

She was still delirious from her climax when his own took its turn. She cried out from the near-scalding heat drenching her sore, unused core. In the midst of it, he let out a snarl that nearly made every elemental explode, and the nearby fire to blister and roar, and bit down on the crook of her neck with sharp teeth puncturing clear marks. His mouth was so searing-hot that the bite cauterized instantly.

To his delighted surprise, she came again. Just from that.

She collapsed against him, trembling like a leaf in the wind, and clinging to him like he was only light and life left in the world. She felt the sting, the ache, and burn of it all now. She was sore, inside and out, and tears kept trickling from her tired eyes. She would sniffle and sob a time or two, but only from the overwhelmed, overstimulated state of her body, and the fact that it had been _Ifrit_ to cause it all.

He held her for as long as she wanted to be there; cherishing her in his arms, against his chest, and watching as the moon began to set, and the horizon began to grow pale with the coming morning.

And to think, he hadn’t needed to say a single word.

They shared in many more languid, sweet kisses before her eyes grew too heavy to stay open. Ifrit liked her enough to curl her up in his arms and abuse a bit of his divine power to spirit her away, back to her little bed. She was asleep by then, but he bestowed on her one last, blessed kiss before he let her be, and returned from whence he came.

 

* * *

 

 

The memory made her want to cry. That had been the best birthday she’d ever had, and he never said a single word. He didn’t need to. He was the most silent, plain-spoken beast she’d ever encountered.

And she’d missed him down to her very bones.

They were still wrapped around each other, blissful as that first night, when she moved and shifted until she was between his legs, eyes clouding over with emotion and desire.

He eyed her curiously until she touched her hands to his thighs and knelt down. His inquisitive gaze turned dark with want. He caressed her cheek, and then loosely tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck. Holding her. Showing what he wanted.

Given that he’d been dead the longest, he got priority. She thought that was fair.

 _“Shanriri…”_ It didn’t even sound much like her name. It was more a crackling growl that went straight to her groin.

She didn’t know how much time she had left before Lehko inevitably found her and yanked the horn out of her chest, or when Phoenix decided it was time to leave this middle-place. Nevertheless, she lowered her head to kiss and mouth around the base of his cock, tasting herself on him, as well as the taste of _him._ Like woodsmoke and charcoal in the most delicious way she could imagine.

He hummed, leaning back while keeping a loose grip on her hair. They’d never done this to each other before. The thrill of it made him ease under her, while it inspired an absolute hunger in her.

She’d had plenty of time to practice her form over these absent years. She worshiped the base of him, eyes hooded and hypnotized. She took him into her mouth, moaning at the same time he did at the perfect taste. At the thunderbolt of raw, delicious desire that came when she tasted the bead of warm, pearlescent precome at the tip. It was almost too hot to take in. Almost.

She dawdled with him, cleaning him with her tongue first before she took him back into her mouth. She palmed, petted, and stroked him as she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, further worshiping him with her hands, lips, and throat.

Oh yes. She could do that, too.

She bobbed her head steadily. He was thick enough to make her jaw ache, but she was focused enough not to notice. Inch by quite-literally-blessed inch, she took him in; suckling and moaning in the back of her throat when his hips twitched and his hand pulled harder on her.

A magma vent nearby cracked open and oozed when he hit the back of her throat, and went _deeper._ He sucked in a blistering gasp as her throat softened, and she let him guide her down deeper, until her nose was nestled against his hot skin, and she couldn’t breathe for the size of him. She swallowed.

He damned near tore her hair out at the root. It made her gasp, and made her throat constrict. She framed her hands on his hips, shuddering, and waiting for him to decide to let her up.

When he gently coaxed her head back up, she only ascended high enough to gulp in a few desperate gasps for air. Her eyes were watering, and practically unseeing for anything but him. Her fingers dug into his hips as she sunk back down and took him in to the root. Another distant rumble of molten rock issued from somewhere.

She shamelessly bobbed her head, gasping and murmuring and sighing at every turn. Her grasp on his hips was superficial, and she didn’t stop him from holding her hair tight and thrusting into her mouth. All she did was swallow him and peer up at him with eyes hooded with lust and shining with tears that freshly fell each time he buried himself deep.

The taste of it was heady as sticking her face over a smoky fire. Her eyes rolled back when he came, so deep in her throat that only some of it managed to flood her mouth. She let out the headiest, most wanton little peep as he emptied himself in her, and swallowed with every pulse, leaving behind only a few dribbling strands to trickle down her chin.

When he pulled out of her mouth, she wiped her chin and lapped away what was on her hand. She panted just as much as he did, drooping forward and resting her head on his navel. She hummed weakly and wrapped her arms around him. She felt safe, there. Even with a sore throat, she felt safe, and wanted for nothing.

In time, he caught her up and pulled him up his chest. He wanted her flush against him, so he could raise purple and red marks on her neck with his lips and teeth. Teeth that hovered over the spot opposite to where he’d first bitten her.

A thrill jolted through her body. “Again,” she murmured. “Bite me again. I want you there, for all to see.”

He cupped her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. He smiled against the crook of her neck.

He liked that thought. Liked it hard enough to acquiesce and bite down with teeth glowing white-hot. Teeth that literally seared their way into the flesh of her trapezius, leaving behind permanent scars as he withdrew and licked at the new brand. Whether it would carry over into the waking world, they didn’t know. It was more the heart behind it that counted.

As well as the wide-eyed, weeping scream of pain… and bliss.

She came again. Completely untouched.

The pain of it lanced down her arm. She remembered how the first bite had hurt for weeks. Lehko couldn’t heal it, for some reason, but did his best to douse it in soothing medicines to ease the discomfort. She was proud of it all the same, and intentionally went about with the shoulder of her shirts and tunics slanted to one side to show it off to people who didn’t know what it was.

Cooked blood was still hot on his lips when she kissed him hard, whispering how much she loved and adored him with every breath.

And that, of course, was when she felt the familiar tug of life. The familiar tug that drew her away from her last kiss with the Infernian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why, yes. Their unagi is divine." - Unagi is eel. Get it? Leviathan? Hurr.
> 
> I am also well aware that the drunken sex sequence constitutes dubcon, but have to acknowledge that it's pretty standard fare for a stupid teenager to have a drunken tryst. Does that make it appropriate? No way. However, realistically, it does happen. In Sie's case, she didn't regret it, but that doesn't mean it was a very good thing to do on Ifrit's part. I never took Astrals for being very good at following a lot of human rules of conduct.


	13. A Sucker's Maxim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That awkward feeling when your dad is prettier than you...

She awoke naked, right where she’d fallen, to a very annoyed Lehko kneeling over her.

She grinned and coughed wanly. No blood on her skin meant her body had turned to ash and reshaped itself into its former glory. Phoenix must’ve decided it was time to come back.

“Shanriri,” Lehko rumbled, more than a little annoyed. “What were you doing? The coeurl nearly ate you before you turned to ashes.”

Lehko had long ago learned to see her death as little more than a hiccup. Sie continued to grin at him, absolutely triumphant in her discovery. “I found Ifrit.”

“Clearly,” Lehko sighed. Indeed, she was covered with the pink welts Ifrit had given her while her soul tumbled with him. The vicious ache in her shoulder proved that even his bite had set firm.

She smiled all the more, poking at the cauterized wound despite the pain. “I found him, Lehk’,” she sighed dreamily, shutting her eyes. “He isn’t gone. I found him.”

He smoothed his fingers through her hair, his annoyance giving way to a small, heartfelt smile. “How is he, then? Other than amorous.”

“ _ Lehk’,”  _ she beamed all the more. “It was wonderful. It was like I was eighteen again. He’s as awake and conscious as he used to be, but… it’s like, some kind of purgatory. The Astrals broke up his soul,  _ but he’s still there,  _ in that horn!”

“Then there’s a chance he may be restored?” 

She nodded. “I think so.”

She didn’t mention their plan. It was too underdeveloped. Too new. Too insane.

“Then we’d best see to it,” Lehko said firmly, helping her sit up. “I wager, if we find that ring, it would further help draw him back to himself again. I was thinking of it while I waited for you to come back together again.”

“The more pieces of him we find,” she mused, agreeing, “the more we have to put together. The more Phoenix can work with.”

“Will he do it, if the opportunity arises?” Lehko asked, eyebrows lifting a fraction.

“Yes,” she replied instantly. “I want to see to that starscourge imposter. I wonder if it possesses anything more off the real Ifrit I can collect.”

She shimmied into her clothing and armor, Lehko helping her lace the weskit once again. Judging by the heat beginning to whisper into the lava tubes, the sun was up, and the jungle was beginning to simmer once more. If the storm had let up in the night, then so much the better. She wanted to hurry up and get to the Cauldron as quickly as possible.

“I would be careful of that,” Lehko warned as they both rose fully. “That plague is more infectious than smallpox. Even a little could taint anything you do.”

“Phoenix won’t let that happen,” she assured him, a steadfast light in her copper eyes. “I say, if it’s the last thing I do as a complete soul, Ifrit will rise again. The elemental wheel needs to be complete if magic in Eos can ever be balanced again. If we can bring Garuda back, we can bring Ifrit back.”

“I agree,” Lehko said, marching with her back to the primary lava tube they’d camped at. He’d already packed things up, and the fire elemental had dismissed itself upon her death. All but their coeurl companion remained, and she seemed plenty content with completing their little phalanx and setting forth deeper into the jungle.

Lehko took point, while Sie and the coeurl trailed behind. The coeurl remained behind them, and it took a great deal of self-restraint for her not to peek over her shoulder at her every five minutes. The coeurl liked Lehko, but Sie wasn’t so sure the beast didn’t have a taste for her flesh. Given that it had been sniffing around her corpse, she feared for the worst.

At least death was never permanent with her. Until it was, anyhow.

_ Ding! _

Lehko didn’t stop in his stride as he reached for his phone. Sie didn’t need to see him smile to know who it was.

>Good morning to you. Are you alright?

And  _ there  _ was the smile. Sie managed to snap a photo of Lehko before he could look up. 

The picture appeared on her screen beautifully. 

Lehko texted back:

>yes <3 u ok? any more mts?

It was funny, knowing how Ignis wrote so perfectly, while Lehko merely smashed the little keyboard with his thumbs without looking up. 

_ Ding! _

>No, fortunately. We’re considering going to Lestallum again to rest and resupply. It seems like the prudent choice. Backtracking from where we first encountered MT activity could throw them off if they’re knowing we’re searching for the Tombs and the Astrals.

Lehko replied:

>might be a couple more days. then im free. gotta hike up a volcano. fun stuff :)

_ Ding! _

>A volcano? Why in the world are you traveling up a volcano?

He answered:

>secret summoner business. very hush hush. i may bring u back a present. u gotta stay out of trouble tho <3

Sie caught him by the scruff before he walked into a tree. “Easy, now, tomcat. Your boyfriend is going to get you walking into a magma vent before we reach our destination.”

Lehko hummed, ears flattening and tail going stiff in disappointment. He put his phone back in his pocket, even when he heard the  _ Ding!  _ of Ignis’s response. She was right, of course, but Ignis made him forget himself.

 

* * *

 

 

Their long, zig-zagging, labyrinthine path through the jungle was uneventful enough, but Yhoator was more dangerous than Yuhtunga. The [Temple of Uggalepih](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/4/4e/YhoatorJng_Temple_of_Uggalepih.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20121211160956) once stood there, a place where a race called the Kuluu once lived, but were hexed into the creatures now known as tonberries. Not that Noctis and his friends would ever know that. The tonberries in the modern age were nothing but the amalgamation of a celestial rot taking the shape of any echoes of Eos’s past it could. [They didn’t even look quite right.](http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/e/e6/Tonberry_1_%28FFXI%29.png/revision/latest?cb=20121215213507)

True tonberries were more pocked and malformed than their modern counterparts; bearing growths and lesions upon their odd, bean-like shapes. They weren’t  _ daemons. _ They were  _ people.  _ Intelligent people who retained much of their intelligence, even after being cursed. They possessed enough magic to conjure elementals, like she could, as well as ninjutsu, if they pleased. They were mages and cunning thieves, and all possessing the wicked power to call upon their collective rancor toward an enemy to cut them down in a single motion.

And, while she was feeling a moment’s pride for the Kuluu compared to the tonberries of the future, that didn’t mean she was pleased when they stumbled upon a small pack of them in their path.

They noticed them near straight away. Lehko and Sie hadn’t exactly been opting for stealth the past day or so. It was too muggy, and most things knew better than to attack them. Tonberries, however, still held the potent risk of making a scene, no matter how clever.

She and Lehko stopped short as the tonberries turned to face them, studying them with their milky eyes, holding sharp blades in their hands, and lanterns in their opposites. Given that the two of them had garnered no ill will with the tonberries, Sie felt bold enough to nudge Lehko aside and step forward.

The tonberries leered at her, grips sharpening on their knives, when she reached into her pocket and gathered a handsome sum of gil. Eos’s inflation rates had  made gil collecting comparatively easy to how it had been so long ago, and when she handed the sum off (for both herself and Lehko, multiplied for all four tonberries in front of them), the leading tonberry made an odd chirping noise. 

The tonberry turned, showing off the bag to its companions, before turning its attention back to her.

“We mean no offense,” she said, setting aside her usual casual banter and humor for something more respectful. “We are headed to the Cauldron to pay homage to the Infernian. We are pilgrims.”

The tonberries’ attentions were piqued. Call them what you would, the tonberries of yore were fiercely religious. Religious enough to make tiny gasping noises when she retrieved Falbub from her pocket and showed it to them - unmistakably Ifrit’s horn and, since it didn’t burn her, it signalled her as blessed by the Infernian.

The leading tonberry, who possessed a water elemental as a companion, shuffled closer to inspect the horn. She hadn’t been  _ completely  _ lying when she spoke of being a Summoner among a class of Summoner. Summoners  _ had  _ existed… if a little before her time.

The tonberry didn’t touch the horn, but its tiny squeak was appreciative. Coupled with the fortune she’d just spent on ensuring they wouldn’t attack them, they were satisfied enough to free up the path to the Cauldron. 

“Thank you,” Lehko murmured sorrowfully. He remembered the Kuluu, but said nothing on it. They were only memories, after all.

“Thanks,” Sie nodded, confidently walking by. Tonberries were honorable, when one carried their favor. Once, she had even managed to go to the Temple of Uggalepih, sweet-talk her way into their ancient, moss-eaten kitchens, and had their chefs cook for her. Ignis may have been an expert cook, but there was nothing in the world quite like a meal made by a tonberry.

“You know,” Sie remarked over her shoulder. “For my last meal? I absolutely want a tonberry chef cooking it.”

“Is my cooking so bad?” Lehko snorted.

“You may be blessed by the Goddess, but cooking is their emotional therapy. And nothing is as delicious as food that doubles as the chef’s emotional homework.”

He let out a laugh. “Fair enough. Tonberry it is.”

“I will eat literally anything they cook for me.”

“Do you think Noctis would?” 

“You want to get him to eat vegetables, don’t you?”

“Very possibly.”

“Because, if you can, Ignis will give you an extra special thank-you?”

“ _ Verrry  _ possibly.”

She rolled her eyes. “How Robel-Akbel ever kept you in line, I’ll never know.”

“Mostly by putting me in charge of the Mithra Mercenaries as the only male mithra-”

_ “Manthra.” _

“-to be enlisted outside of the Motherland.”

“Hey, Lehk’?”

He didn’t stop in his stride, and merely hummed back at her.

“...If…” she murmured, worrying at Falbub some more. “Just, you know how this feels like an adventure? What we’re doing?”

“Going to the Cauldron?” He wrinkled his brow.

“Yeah. I want you to do this again. After I’m gone, I mean.”

“Ah,” the old mithra breathed, looking back to the trail ahead and sidestepping an enormous bee that had no business being  _ so  _ enormous, but was at least docile. “That again.”

“We ain’t got a lot of time, Lehk’,” she drawled. He didn’t like talking about it, but it was all she could think about lately. “Just, if you and Ignis become a real  _ thing,  _ take him on a bunch of bullshit adventures for me.”

His serene, appreciative smile was tight at the edges. “I’ll keep the Chocogram running.”

It was no small relief to hear him say that. As the clock ticked down toward the big day, concern for herself had shifted to concern toward Lehko. Sie wasn’t afraid to confess to her own vanity, but it wasn’t fair to even remotely picture Lehko as pining for her after she was gone. He’d been around a long time before her, and she wanted him to feel excited to be around a long time after her, too. Hopefully, those long years of a happy life would be springboarded by the mithra finding love and happiness, even in a mortal.

 

* * *

 

Another day came and went through the confusing jungle. Lehko walked with confidence ahead of Sie, while their enthusiastic coeurl friend sometimes disappeared to hunt her own game, only to return with blood on her whiskers and a deep sense of satisfaction in her sharp eyes. Macabre, maybe, but at least she wasn’t trying to pounce on Sie.

“I have no idea how you’re able to navigate this place without looking at the map every ten seconds,” Sie sighed as the sun set and the stars above twinkled through the broken canopy. It would take another couple of hours before the temperature lowered to anything resembling comfortable. There was one more outpost between them and the Cauldron, but Yhoator was massive, and the going was often slow as they were forced to pick their way between a variety of nasty things ranging from malboros, to tonberries, to goblins. Tonberries and goblins they could bribe. Malboros could be bribed with a heaping helping of Firajas - the big brother to Fira _ ga _ . Firaja burned so hot that there wasn’t even the trademark malboro stench left behind.

“Years of practice and an unflagging memory,” Lehko replied. Another unoccupied lava tube would suffice for their next campsite. While Sie conjured up another fire elemental to crackle merrily and put off any roaming nasties from approaching, Lehko started up the fixings for dinner and setting out bedrolls.

When Sie took off her boot and upended it, there was enough murky water and sweat pouring from it to start her own aquarium. An aquarium of the damned.

“So…” she hummed, ignoring the easy old-man joke for a matter more pressing on her mind.

“I know that voice,” Lehko moaned contemptuously. “You used to use that when you wanted me to buy you something unreasonable.”

She rolled her eyes. “I want to see Ifrit again tonight.”

“Which translates to,  _ ‘Lehko, would you please make sure the cat doesn’t eat my corpse,’”  _ he surmised dryly. 

She beamed at him wide enough he could see where he’d once had to yank out her wisdom teeth. Unaffected by her charms, he waved her off. “So long as Phoenix is comfortable with it.”

Always a matter close at hand when it came to her death. Phoenix was somewhere between a father figure, an imaginary friend, and a boogieman. Perhaps she was complacent with him from time to time, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous to give him a chance at taking control over her. Lehko could count on one hand the number of times Sie had willingly submitted herself over to him, and every time, Phoenix had a way of causing a hilarious amount of damage and bloodshed. 

The first time Phoenix had ever elbowed his way in to take control was when Sie was fifteen and was too inexperienced to rely upon other blood pacts to defend herself from an actual angry mob attempting to wrangle her to execute her for being a heretic. It hadn’t been the first time that word had been bandied around with her. Why wouldn’t it be? She  _ did  _ make deals with what had long been considered dead, evil gods straying from the divine or… something groan-worthy.

Lehko still kicked himself over that day. He left her alone at their house for a few hours to go crystal gathering, and soon discovered one of the many pitfalls of raising a teenager. Dear, darling, infuriating Shanriri had up and left to go to the local town for a little bit of socialization which, granted, she desperately needed,  _ but not from there. _

Within an hour, the angry mob had the “heretic witch” backed in a corner, torches and pitchforks raised derisively. Someone threw a rock and cracked her in the temple, and she’d been dead before she hit the ground.

And then, Phoenix showed up. Crawled his way out of her ashen, crumbling carcass with  _ murder  _ in his eyes (he was always torn between loving a taste of freedom and hating being roused early). It was then that Lehko had arrived, trying desperately to talk Phoenix out of leaving the town they got their groceries from as a charred wasteland, while Phoenix merely smiled.

Ifrit was the one to save the day. The Infernian had manifested from the core of the wildfire sparked by Phoenix, forced the flames to freeze in place, and suffocated them with ease. Back then, Phoenix was still too delicate to do much more than harry villagers and otherwise make a nuisance of himself, but Ifrit still had approached him gently and sagely. Two gods of fire, the younger murmuring words of encouragement to the elder to convince him to stay his wrath for another day.

Ironic, considering what happened to Solheim.

And Phoenix had relented, as his heart had come to beat for Ifrit just as much as Shanriri’s had, and he agreed to leave the town alone, but  _ only  _ if they moved somewhere else. Somewhere where his little vessel wouldn’t be poisoned by hate toward humans.  _ “Let her not malice so low as mortal men,”  _ Phoenix had said.  _ “For I malice much higher.” _

Chilling words before he set himself alight and allowed young Shanriri to emerge from his ashes, naked and confused, and blushing  _ furiously  _ when she realized Ifrit was there. If Phoenix allowed her to worship any other gods than himself, she would’ve merrily gone to tend Ifrit’s altar.

Three years later, she did in the  _ best  _ way possible.

Lehko had known she’d be utterly enamored with Ifrit for the rest of her life the moment she’d come home, twelve years old and beaming, holding up a spiral of friendly flames snaking up her arm and emerging from a fresh cut in her palm.  _ “Lehko! Lehko!”  _ she’d cheered.  _ “Look! The Infernian gave me his blessing!” _

“Eat dinner first,” Lehko drawled, rubbing his face as he produced a few fire crystals and laid out ingredients on a mat. “Then you can kill yourself.”

“I love it when men say that to me,” she snickered, flopping down onto her bedroll and fumbling for her phone. “May as well pester Ardyn. I think I kept that boy waiting long enough.”

“You’re getting embroiled in your own game, Shanriri.”

“What is he gonna do? Kill me?” she chuckled, opening up her text messages. “I like him. He has a great capacity to be infuriating. I like that.”

He rolled his eyes. “He’s going to make a nuisance of himself. An  _ us- _ sized nuisance of himself. I feel it in my whiskers.”

“Why do you people say that?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “Mithra don’t have whiskers.”

“I’m not all mithra, Shanriri,” he reminded her, just in time for the first synthesis to finish. He passed a steaming bowl of green curry poured over white rice, hot enough to clear their sinuses and make them forget about the heat of the jungle for awhile. The meat of choice was chicken for Lehko, and lamb for her. Phoenix refused to allow her to eat any kind of bird, and so did Garuda. One of the woeful pitfalls of having divine parents that both presided over birds.

A comfortable silence passed between them as they both ate with one hand, and thumbed at their phones with the other. “Thank you for dinner, Lehk’.”

He spared a moment to lean over and kiss her cheek. “You’re always welcome, Shanriri.”

Just as they often did when they ate dinner, she leaned over against his shoulder, making sure some part of her was touching him, even though they neither looked at one another nor spoke as they dined. The coeurl moved in, too, to curl up behind them and allow them to lean on her. Even if it meant she was lying on Sie’s bedroll.

Frankly, she would give up a bedroll if it meant she got to snuggle with a giant cat any day of the week. Probably why she still shared a bed with Lehko.

>so, if i were to go back to cauthess, there wouldn’t be any chance my bike is still there, would there?

It was a text to Ardyn, because the question was gnawing at her. Her sweet, beloved baby, abandoned and all alone in Cauthess… 

Phoenix stirred. He liked that bike.

_ Ding! _

>Ah, the dear thing is impounded, I’m afraid. By my order, of course. Wouldn’t want such a beautiful motorbike to come to harm in the wake of the Archaean’s fall, do you not agree?

_ “Ugh,”  _ Sie moaned, sniffling back the classic trickle of clear snot that always came with Lehko’s viciously-hot curries. “Ardyn took the Alicorn.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” the old tom shrugged. “We’ll get her back.”

>and i suppose you have terms for her release?

_ Ding! _

>Well, I was going to return her to you when next we crossed paths, but if you’re already prepared to parlay…

“Balls,” she muttered. “What do you think I should give him to get her back?”

“Your virtue,” Lehko quipped.

“That bird flew the coop the moment Ifrit emerged from the forest fire, darling,” she chuckled. “I’ve already promised to meet Ardyn for dinner and give him my room number in Altissia. I think he’s waiting for another offer.”

“Offer him Ramuh’s head,” Lehko suggested. “He’s from Niflheim, no? And they’re the ones that shucked off Shiva’s immortal coil. And it would cost us nothing, after all.”

>how about a demonstration as to how much i love that bike?

_ Ding! _

>You have me on pins and needles.

She wrote:

>first, i need your word that you won’t interfere, and neither will the empire.

_ Ding! _

>Now I’m truly on the edge of my seat. Very well, My Lady Summoner; you have my word. Neither I nor my imperial friends will stand in the way of…?

She wrote:

>in exchange for the alicorn, i’ll deliver you the fulgurian’s head. well, you’ll have to come to it. i may look tough, but i can’t really haul the damned thing to you. 

The fact that he didn’t reply right away boded well. 

_ Ding! _

>You have a deal. I shall have the motorbike within the confines of an unaffiliated dropship awaiting retrieval upon the Fulgurian’s demise. :)

“Be prepared for him to go back on his word, or come up with something batshit crazy, but we’ve got a deal,” she announced, staying any sense of triumph for when Ardyn held up his side of the bargain. 

“So long this isn’t a mess Phoenix will have to dig us out from,” Lehko grumbled, bristling at the possibility. 

Phoenix lurched in her gut again. She shivered.

><3 thanks love. put off throttling and/or arresting me and i may take you on a ride. ;)

“You are so transparent,” Lehko teased, giving her a little elbow as he read over her shoulder.

“Go sext Ignis,” she teased back. “The recipe for that curry could get him halfway there on its own.”

“If you ever fuck the Chancellor, do tell me how weird it is,” he retorted with a sly wink.

“I’ll give you a play-by-play during.”

_ Ding! _

>I have to say, watching you squirm at the sight of me as more than a little entertaining, dear Sie. It makes me curious as to how concerned you truly are about me. One would think you would have not a care in the world, being the woman capable of summoning dead gods ;) I daresay I’m flattered.

She sucked on her teeth and cocked an eyebrow. He was obnoxious, but also endlessly interesting. And attractive.  _ Damn. Fate is a cruel mistress. _

>lol you have a very commanding presence. it’s cute when you pretend you’re totally unaware of the effect you have on people. you’d do well on the throne when the emperor is spent. would you go by king ardyn, or emperor ardyn?

_ Ding! _

>Ah, if only I possessed your clout! Has anyone ever taken a knee before you in worship, Your Holiness?

She replied:

>i should ask you the same question. “godking ardyn” has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say?

_ Ding! _

>You have no idea ;) At this rate, I’ll struggle with waiting for you to conclude your faraway business. I don’t suppose you would be willing to meet me sooner rather than later? I’m sure young Prince Noctis won’t pine overmuch for you. He’s a big boy. He and his cavalcade can easily strike a path to the Fulgurian without any extra divine assistance, wouldn’t you say?

“He’s trying to lure me into meeting with him as soon as we’re back,” Sie tattled idly, no true emotion registering through her tone. 

Lehko cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t look up from his own phone. “Is that so?”

She hummed. “Probably has a mind to pick my horn about the blood pacts. Probably wants to pin me to a display like a butterfly specimen.”

“At least that suggests you’re a unique beauty,” Lehko shrugged, thumbing rapidly as he continued texting Ignis. “He’s a wily one, I’ll give him that. He was very curious about you after you took your rest in that dropship.”

“You figure I should go for it? I don’t think he wants you there.”

Lehko flashed her a sly, sweet smirk. “You can take care of yourself. You can handle a nosy human. And, if you can’t, Phoenix can. Has he not been restless these past few years?”

>i think i’ll be back in four or five days. i’ll meet you at the leville in lestallum.

_ Ding!  _

>Excellent :) Do allow me to foot the bill for your room, since you insist on footing the bill in Altissia. Wouldn’t want to invest too much on little old me!

“It’s kind of creepy when he uses emojis,” she muttered under her breath, replying:

>it’s a date <3

“I can hear you flirting with him,” Lehko teased without looking up. “But, if he turns out to be a monstrous pain in our asses, you can at least boast that you made him cry in bed.”

Sie beamed. “I learned from the best.”

“It truly warms my heart to know that you learned how to melt a man’s mind in bed through my tutelage,” he sighed, dramatic and full of lazy grins.

Sie flopped back, leaning against the coeurl behind her and giving her ears and brow a thorough scratch. The young cat purred violently, whiskers twitching as she felt a surge of static lift the hairs on her arms. It didn’t stop her from petting the cat a few moments longer before thinking it wise to keep the electricity-wielding cat away from delicate electronics.

Her head rolled to one side, gazing at Lehko’s back while putting her phone away in favor of Falbub. “I think I’m about ready for bed, Lehk’.”

“If you’re going to stab yourself, don’t do it over my bedroll,” he drawled.

She was already stripping down. “Just yank the horn out of me like a proper prince come morning.  Or just… drape me over the side of our coeurl.”

“You know it burns me when I touch it, right?”

“Then wrap your hands in a blanket.”

“You’re impossible, you know,” he said blandly, no venom on his tongue.

Sie furrowed her brow, poising the tip of the horn at the proper angle between two ribs. Being a woman made stabbing herself in the heart awkward sometimes. Having to aim to avoid hitting too much of her breast so as to not slow the path between blade and heart had taken a lot of practice, and a lot of bandages. And crying. A lot of crying.

The discomfort was worth the payoff. She drove the horn between her ribs and up into her heart with a practiced hand, and fell back against the curious coeurl in a rapidly-paling heap.

Lehko merely got up and tucked her into bed before resuming a rather enthusiastic round of sexting Ignis.

 

* * *

 

 

She was floating. Floating free of all cares and pains.

Death was always the sweet relief humans suggested it was. There were no pains or cares in death, no matter how temporary. She felt ever at ease, floating in the between-place between the Beyond, which Phoenix forbade her, and the living. It was a place between stars and galaxies, above her and below her, as she floated on a great plane of water made up of scintillating light.

For a while, she floated; confused as to why she hadn’t arrived before Ifrit as she had done before. She felt too blissfully at ease to try to fret over it, instead closing her eyes and basking in a few precious hours, minutes, and seconds without strife. Without the ticking clock of oblivion drawing steadily down, down, down to zero.

“The embodiment of true laziness; napping after dying,” a familiar voice remarked.

She let out a breath, allowing the water to drag her a little further down, until nothing but her face remained in the open air. “Why am I not with Ifrit this time?”

She blinked up at the infinity of stars above her, watching as a familiar face manifested above; gazing down at her like a fascinated parrot.

He was a perfect beauty: Youthful and stunning, and utterly divine. His was a beauty that transcended male and female, and encapsulated a magnificence long gone extinct. His black-crimson hair was pulled up high in ornate patterns of plaits, jewels, and silken strands pulled into a high tail, and possessing a beautiful corona of gold and jewels. Twin pins of gold feathers adorned the space just before his ears.

His copper eyes were painted in metal tones of rose gold, gold, and a hint of garnet. A ruby was set into his brow. His skin was a rich gold belonging to a royal beast that worshiped the sun. His lips were delicately painted to match the dust upon his eyes. 

“Phoenix,” she murmured idly. 

He reached down, extending one manicured hand to catch her by the wrist and haul her out of the water to lie atop it in a way just as real as floating in it. The silk of his scarlet robe tickled her cheek. It bore gold embroidery, depicting cranes and peacocks at flight, with metallic thread of many colors depicting the rich plumage of the peacocks. His robe was trimmed in gold, and was but the outermost of several more robes beneath it - a fashion once worn by the most magnificent of kings and emperors long, long ago.

Strapped across his lower back and hung with bells from the pommel was his ninjatō, while he cherished a paper parasol painted with a magnificent bird of fire, metal, and jewels in the crook of one shoulder. His spare hand went toward pulling her up and out of her lazy drifting.

“I wanted to talk with you, since you devote yourself with such skill with avoiding me,” he explained, cocking one delicate eyebrow as the shadow of his parasol fell over her. “Dear Shanriri, whatever am I to do with you?”

“Kill me, presumably,” she snorted, smirking as he knelt over her and idly picked at her true hair - bearing the colors of a shattered glacier. Her eyes were violet, and skin bleached white instead of the usual sunkissed glow she bore in the living world. It was the body she was meant to grow into before Phoenix grew into her first.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Phoenix said, flashing her a smile bearing sharp teeth. He caressed her cheek. “I have news for you, my girl. I need you to do something for me.”

“I do  _ everything  _ for you, Phoenix,” she sighed, deep-seated exhaustion beginning to ruin her peace. “What do you want?”

“You pay precious little attention to the whispers of the heretics,” Phoenix said. “I have been listening to the murmurs of my former kin, and have seen a new way.”

At that, she sat up; long hair falling in loose ringlets around her shoulders. “What sort of new way?”

“There is a ring I would have,” he went on. “Precious little thing, belonging to a pack of mortal kings along with that crystalline descendent of Cait Sith’s favorite age. Do you know it?”

“Phoenix, we share thoughts.  _ Yes,  _ I know it,” she sighed for the umpteenth time. Phoenix was like a very strange father to her, but that didn’t stop her from feeling a daughter’s petulant weariness. As well as a twinge of resentment. She  _ liked  _ being alive.

“Fetch it for me. Pinch it from the prince whose company we enjoy. He won’t appreciate it like we can.”

“I don’t want to get involved with the weird politics of the Lucis Caelums,” she whined. 

He pinched her nose. “Fetch it, or I will.”

“Why?” she snapped, glaring defiantly at him. “What could you possibly need a mortal trinket for? I have the pacts with the other Avatars. I get ten more years before I carry it all out. Why are we stealing backwater crown jewels?”

_ “Because,”  _ Phoenix hissed, his glare dampening her temper with his own, “I have an idea.”

“I’m listening.”

“There is a prophecy,” Phoenix explained. “One we are vaguely aware of.”

“About the perfect moment to capture Bahamut.”

“This prophecy comes with trinkets,” he continued with a steady nod. “The crystal, which shall be the tool with which Bahamut will pursue, and the ring - the Ring of the Lucii, says Shiva, rather too loudly for us to miss. This ring holds an impressive amount of power. Power enough to even overwhelm the lesser of our kin. Power I intend to steal.”

“Why do you need it, though?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “Does it magically regrow your wings?”

“Oh, that it could,” Phoenix grumbled, his temper souring at the mention of his pilfered wings. “ _ That  _ appears to be a secret guarded in the annals of history we have missed during our sojourn in Dynamis. Wherever the Usurper has hidden them, we have ten more years to uncover. Not long, in the grand scheme of things, but I have a hunch as to where to begin the search.”

“Go on.”

“That  _ ring,”  _ Phoenix hissed. “Within it are the combined essences of every member of Prince Noctis’s regal pedigree. Those presented with their divine weapons, which the Prince is to wield as part of the continuance of this mortal prophecy. Donning the ring allows one to commune with these once-mortal princes. If Bahamut would use my wings for anything, it would be to insult me by bestowing their power unto one of his favorite little mortals.”

She nodded, chewing her lip, deep in thought. “And… I don this ring and wrestle the information out of them?”

_ “I  _ wrestle the information from them,” Phoenix corrected her, raising a finger. “You see, this ring has a way of demanding a tithe in exchange for its secrets. A tithe meant for a mortal to pay, and should said mortal not be of the Lucis Caelum line, the tithe is often death. Or severe maiming, depending on how well these dead kings like you.”

He touched her lips before she could complain. “A tithe I’ll not have you pay. Contrary to what you suspect, I  _ do  _ value your comfort, my dear Shanriri. I should rather spare you undue suffering, if only you’ll let me. You are rather obstinate, you know.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You have a way of getting us in trouble when I trust you to behave yourself.”

“Trouble easily resolved.”

“By  _ moving,”  _ she huffed. 

“Maybe, but that point aside… Fetch me that ring.” He stroked her cheek, his foxish features similar to her own, like a father would pass down to a daughter. He was smiling, eyes gleaming mischievously as hers did when she had a particularly evil idea. “It’s not as if the boy is ready for it. Not surprising; he  _ is  _ doomed to die.”

She twitched, eyes zeroing in on him. “Beg pardon?”

He turned his head and smiled like he was the most guilty, innocent person in the world. “Oh yes. That part of Bahamut’s prophecy is true. Poor Prince Noctis; doomed to lose all he loves, and then sacrifice his own life.”

_ “For what?”  _ she growled.

“To purge the world of its daemons, of course. Those ugly things we like to hit golf balls at. There is one that controls them all and carries the core of that darkness within themselves. The beast is immortal, and only the concentrated power of the King and Crystal can see to it forever.”

His eyes flicked back to her, the insidious little smile lingering. “Well… perhaps he is not the  _ only  _ one…”

Anger pooled in her stomach as intensely as a building orgasm. “We use the ring instead and do the job better. Is that what you have in mind? Use Noctis as incentive for me to steal that ring for you?”

Phoenix gasped, raising a scandalized hand to his chest. “I never said that! Merely that, by fetching me the ring, you fetch Prince Noctis time long enough to bear witness to my return to the throne, and the rebirthing of this world. Perhaps, in the long run, it doesn’t really matter, but Ignis…”

“...Would be heartbroken,” she groaned, stuffing her face in her hands and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms.

“Precisely so,” he tittered, poking the tip of her nose. “Fetch me the ring, and we will do all we can to cherish the mortal’s tender heart for Cait Sith.”

She slumped forward, angry, but not averse to feeling the warm brush of silk on her cheek. There was no point in arguing with Phoenix. His requests were always thinly-veiled demands that she had to obey, or risk being overtaken. Phoenix never took control for long, but when he did, it was always because she fought him. Always because they’d argued and he had the paternal ability to effectively ground her.

Pleased as punch, Phoenix looped his arms around her and pulled her in closer, his long sleeves blanketing her in scarlet from all sides. When she was little, she could swim in those sleeves. Phoenix would sometimes visit her in dreams and visions, keeping tabs on her directly instead of watching the world through her eyes.

“Okay,” she finally agreed, knowing it was an act in futility to make another smart comment on it. “I don’t know where it is, though. Do you think the Prince has it?”

“He’d be fiddling with it if he did,” Phoenix shrugged. “Rest easy. Such objects always have a way of finding their intended owners. Stay close to the boy  _ and  _ the Chancellor. I like that man. He has the air of a beast capable of eking out the secrets of the world. Watch them both, and I guarantee the ring will appear along the way.”

“So you approve of meeting in Lestallum before pursuing Ramuh?”

“He likes you back,” Phoenix chirped, chuffing up and grinning. “You did well when you met him. I can smell it on him that he’s interested.”

“We share a nose, Phoenix.”

“Yes, and you should use it,” he snorted, carding his fingers through the hair she should have grown, were it not for him. “Men like him are intrigued by anything that can match their wit. You would do well together, you know. Count demolishing his home as the first overture.”

She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known he was pretty.”

“Oh yes you would.”

“...Maybe.”

Phoenix chuckled and ruffled her hair. He kissed the crown of her head, smiling impishly to himself. “I do love it when you see things my way, Shanriri. Although I do hate that name.  _ Shanriri.  _ I miss your first name. The one you told me when we met at the bottom of the glass crater.”

“I don’t remember it.”

“A shame,” he sighed.

At length, she shifted away from Phoenix and frowned - nearing a pout. “Where’s Ifrit?”

He smirked at her. “Tired of me already?”

Sie rolled her eyes. “Maybe. Or, I’m excited to see him again. Mother told me there was nothing left of him.”

“She was right to assume that,” he replied, idly tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “But, I don’t think she took into account the fact that you do willingly stab yourself in the heart from time to time.”

At that, she laughed and shook her head. “It was a hunch, and you’d just bring me back, anyway.”

“And I was curious, myself,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Funny…”

“Funny?”

He narrowed his eyes and smiled. “How one flame can enkindle another, no matter how dead it may seem.”

It didn’t sink in for several long seconds.

Her heart shot into her throat. “Are you saying…? Are you saying you can bring him back?”

“I can make him more awake, at least,” he answered casually, leaning back and propping himself up on one hand. He idly spun his parasol, making the firebird painted on it fly in circles. “Breathe a little life into him each time. And imagine how I could play with the power in that ring…”

_ Of course. _

Sie rolled her eyes hard enough to hurt and flopped back onto the surface of the glittering water. “I’ll get you the damned ring. Can I see Ifrit yet? As nice as it is to see you, I didn’t stab myself because I wanted to jump your bones.”

Phoenix clucked a light chuckle. “I appreciate that. You’ve grown into a very beautiful creature, dear Shanriri, but my interests are much more paternal. And opportunistic.”

“Parasite.”

He chuckled a little louder, sitting up next to her. “Yes, yes. Very well, then; off you go to see your sweetheart,” he murmured, and pressed his hand against the center of her chest to push her down into the water.

She didn’t fight it. Merely shut her eyes against the sight of Phoenix turning into holy flame and washing over her, into her, and bathing her hair the color of garnets, eyes the color of copper, and skin like a girl fond of walks in the sun.

 

* * *

 

 

It felt like falling asleep until the smell of wildfires and ash tickled her nose. She drifted down, down, down, until she felt herself lying draped across a lap, with strong arms coiling around her and hugging her close to a warm, sturdy body.

Her eyes opened slowly, and a bright smile spread across her lips. Ifrit’s red eyes peered down at her with more affection than she’d ever seen.

“There you are,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. “How are you?”

To her endless relief, Ifrit’s soft reply was,  _ “Warmer.” _

Phoenix shifted inside her, tickling her with a vain sense of satisfaction.

She ignored him in favor of sitting a little higher and leaning against his shoulder. “It’s been a day. I missed you.”

He let out a low rumble and caught her lips in a searing kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. He murmured her name against her lips like it was the only word he knew. Before she knew it, she was straddling his lap and putting her full weight and want behind every blistering kiss. It made her wonder what her world would’ve been like if she’d not been forced to go away to Dynamis.

Probably full of hiding from a jealous Shiva, but that was a bridge she’d never come to cross.

His kisses trailed down her neck to worship at her shoulder and the new scar she bore from his passion-fueled bite the night before. His thumb rolled over the raised scars, filling them with heat that made her shiver. He did the same to the other, older set, until her eyes shut and she turned to jelly in his hands. The twin blushes of heat had Phoenix purring in the back of her mind, too. A fact she tried to ignore every time she slept with anyone. She wasn’t disgusted by it, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable to share a body with a deity one considered a father figure. Sort of.

“Each time-” she stopped to pant, as his teeth had begun to nibble at her neck, “-I come here, I carry a spark of Phoenix’s flame with me.”

At that, Ifrit leaned away and eyed her curiously.

She nodded at his silent question. “Phoenix believes that feeding your flames could be a stepping stone toward bringing you back as the rightful Infernian,” she explained with a slow, cautious smile. “I mean… I don’t know how much time I’d have with you before I have to go, but you would live again.”

The fires of his excitement were brutally doused. The prospect of living again was one he’d long ago abandoned, and one he would abandon again at the mention of her oncoming doom. It made him thread his fingers through her hair, tangle them up, and ease her close enough to be flush against his chest with her cheek against his shoulder. His melancholy sigh sounded like a fire being stoked.

She hugged him. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

His fingers twitched at the same time as Phoenix stirred. And stirred… And  _ stirred… _

The breath was ripped from her lungs, along with a plume of holy fire that coalesced near the foot of the Infernian’s throne. Sie shuddered, her hair falling into shades of glacial ice, and eyes shifting from copper to violet in a rush of pilfered air.

“Now, let’s not be too hasty,” Phoenix’s sing-song rode over the ever-present rumble of the fires surrounding the Infernian’s altar. “Dear Shanriri; ever the optimist, except when it comes to herself. Do you truly believe I would force you to carry out this goal without simultaneously pursuing alternative options? We just had this discussion,” he tutted.

She turned, sitting sideways in Ifrit’s lap so as to see Phoenix idly spinning his parasol nearby. 

Ifrit gazed down at Phoenix, curious, but tempering any words he would spare the old firebird.  _ “Phoenix…” _

“The very same,” Phoenix confirmed with a clever smirk Sie had inherited from him. “Lovely to see you, Ifrit. Death becomes you!”

The fires surrounding the altar crackled in time with Ifrit’s irritation.  _ “Phoenix…”  _ came out as more of a growl than any acknowledgement. It was before Sie’s time, but Phoenix had always been rather annoying when presented with an opportunity. An opportunity to be annoying, that is.

Phoenix took no offense to Ifrit’s reaction. “I assure you both that every measure to breathe life into your bones will be taken. You do know of my favor for you both. I wouldn’t have allowed our Shanriri to bed you - or  _ throne  _ you, I suppose - if I didn’t approve of the match. You do make a handsome couple, and a father always dreams of his daughter finding a good husband.”

“Phoenix…” it was her turn to groan and roll her eyes. She curled up in a tight ball in Ifrit’s lap, still naked as a jaybird. “I don’t want to get too optimistic. You’ve been brow-beating me with the fact I’ll be too far gone to even see the afterlife after I hold up my end of the bargain.”

He raised an elegant, manicured finger, appearing superior in his own mind. “Only to avoid instilling you with false hope, my love. Now that the final hour draws near, I think it time to discuss our options.”

“You sound like a doctor in a fertility clinic,” she clucked, rolling her eyes. 

Phoenix strafed closer, continuing to spin his parasol. “The fact is, the resurgence of this magical ring to go along with this magical crystal and the magical horn taken from your magical lover leads me to hope that, perhaps, piling on enough outside power will hold you together. Help reduce the price of the covenant. Give Atomos something more appealing to chew on in exchange for our beloved brothers and sisters.”

Sie and Ifrit exchanged a look before narrowing their eyes at Phoenix. Sie critiqued him with a flat, “That sounds too sloppy to even resemble a solution.”

“It’s that, or we set about ripping the magic from our dear Noctis,” Phoenix sneered, eyes flashing gold for an instant, ruthlessness floating in his pupils. “So much potential lies in the lad. So much power in his blood. I could rip the ancestors straight from his bones, if only you’d let me.”

Sie stiffened and narrowed her eyes sharply on Phoenix. “Leave the boy be. He’s already set out to be a sacrificial lamb.”

_ “If it saves Shanriri…”  _ Ifrit’s low voice scorched between them, a look of agreement in his expression.

“No!” Sie argued, balling her fists. “Leave the child alone. If the ring does the job, we don’t need more!”

“Then I’m glad you continue to agree with our original plot!” Phoenix chimed brightly, though the ruthlessness in his eyes remained. “That ring could save your hide, my dear. Best wrest it from its owners before they have a chance to use it, hmm? Even if it means chewing the finger off the hand that wears it.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“But effective.”

“Why do you always default to gruesome means of killing people?” 

Phoenix’s grin was positively predatory. “Because it hardly counts if you I can simply bring them back. Death washes away all sins and suffering, does it not? So, it scarcely matters how you get there.”

She cocked an eyebrow and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Wise men call that a sucker’s maxim.”

“Then it is well that I am no wise man,” he said with a sly wink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ardyn using emojis feels like a cross between my dad discovering them, and my stalker discovering them. 
> 
> And Phoenix may be a psychopath.


	14. Ifrit's Family Jewels

Lehko had only barely gotten to sleep before Sie’s thrice-damned phone started to ring.

He groaned, pulling his face from the side of the coeurl, hair sticking up at all angles from the silly thing grooming him while he snoozed. The cat made for a good replacement for Sie’s fire elemental after it dismissed itself following her temporary death. It was one of Yhoator’s cooler nights, which necessitated generous amounts of snuggling.

He moaned, rolling over to face Sie. He’d wedged himself between her still-warm corpse and the cat. Falbub seemed capable of keeping her blood hot while she remained “occupied” with Ifrit. With no care for  _ who  _ was calling, he blearily stuffed his hand down her bedroll, fumbled about for her phone, and answered it without checking the caller ID. “Whattyawant?” he blurted clumsily, each syllable an annoyed, sleepy grumble.

There was a pause, almost long enough to make him hang up and possibly punch the phone for good measure.

_ “...Lehko?” _ Noctis’s voice filtered through the quiet static.

He scrubbed his face and scratched at the stripes on his cheeks. “Sie’s asleep,” he lied, half-tempted to hang up right then and there. “Shouldn’t you be, too? I thought you were Diabolos’s consort, with how much you love sleep.”

There came another, pregnant pause. _ “I was just trying to see if I could catch her,”  _ he murmured. He sounded like he was trying to keep his voice down, as to avoid being overheard.  _ “Sorry for waking you. I’ll just text her later.” _

He could hear him about to hang up and stopped him. “What’s wrong, Noctis?” he asked, true concern creeping into his voice. His buttery, irresistible voice that could wring a smile out of Yojimbo himself. It was enough to prevent the call from cutting off.

_ “Nothing,” _ Noctis lied.  _ “I just… couldn’t sleep.” _

“And if I wake Ignis and tell him that you can’t sleep…?” He cocked an eyebrow.

_ “No!” _ Noct hissed. _ “Just… don’t wake anyone, okay? I just had a nightmare, is all. I think I may still be dreaming…” _

Both eyebrows went up this time. “Do you, now?”

_ “I don’t… I don’t know.”  _ He sounded genuinely distressed, and getting worse. _ “Everything feels so real, but it’s so dark.” _

_ Ah.  _ Without one of Diabolos’s hourglasses, the boy wouldn’t be able to shift into memories of Eos. He was probably in the nightmare world, where everything was dark and waiting to be banished into a facsimile of the waking world. He was in Dynamis.

“Just a minute,” Lehko grunted, sitting up and peeling back the top layer of Sie’s bedroll to reveal the horn jutting from her chest. He grabbed his discarded jacket, wrapped it around his hand, and used it to swiftly jerk the horn out of her chest and gently shake her. “Wake up.”

_ “You don’t have to wake her, Lehko. I can just-” _

“You can sit tight,” the tomcat interrupted flatly, still struggling with a sour temper made worse by the fact that the coeurl’s insistent grooming had made his hair look like Prompto’s. He continued to nudge her corpse in the hopes it would rouse Phoenix enough for him to consider Lehko’s insistence. “Where are you? What do you see?”

He kept nudging her and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her body grow ashen and frayed at the edges. His next poke caused a large chunk of her body - now turned to ash and cool coals - to give way beneath his finger. A moment after that, her body caved in like a broken porcelain doll, and she disintegrated into a heap of the stuff.

_ “It’s like Insomnia, but… not,”  _ Noctis replied lamely, a tremor clear in his voice.  _ “Everything’s all black and outlined, and when I make noise, I can see colors around me. Like blowing away dust, or something… I’m in front of the Citadel, and everything is just broken.” _

The tremor had turned into a crack, and Lehko sighed. “You’re in a nightmare,” he explained gently, obfuscating the truth a little. “Would you like me to talk you through it, or do you just want Sie?”

He hadn’t been looking when the ashes of Sie’s remains reformed back into her, now free of injury, save for the red welts from where Ifrit had touched her and left his mark. He heard her grumble and moan a plaintive, “I hate you,” and make an attempt at rolling over and stuffing her face in her pillow.

Lehko gave her a little poke and shoved her phone by her ear. “I’m going back to bed.”

She moaned and picked the phone up, blinking one eye at a time and scowling at nothing. “Hello?”

_ “Sie?”  _ Noctis voice had gone from tremulous to hopeful in an instant. She could practically hear the way his eyes widened and shoulders slumped.  _ “Is that you?” _

She hummed, pricked a finger on Falbub, and summoned up a fire elemental to warm the lava tube and give her light as she staggered to her feet, naked, and moved deeper into the tunnel to let Lehko sleep. He could still hear them, clear as crystal, but the gesture wasn’t lost on him. Even if he still piled his pillow over his ears and stole hers to cushion his face. A small punishment for making  _ friends. _

After turning a corner and waiting for the fire elemental to boil one of those  _ gross, creepy lizard’s  _ brains out of its eye sockets, Sie slouched down and perched on a patch of moss. “What’s going on? It’s late.”

_ “I think I might be in Dynamis, or something… I fell asleep in a haven and woke up in Insomnia, and everything’s so dark. Is this where you go when you leave?” _

She rubbed her eyes and grunted an  _ mm-hmm.  _ “You probably had a nightmare powerful enough to knock you here,” she murmured gently, resting her cheek on one knee and shutting her eyes. “You need to stay calm, relax, and breathe. If you let yourself freak out too much, it can cause the nightmare to turn dangerous. Things you’re afraid of can manifest in front of you. You understand?”

There was a long pause before Noctis spoke again. _ “It kind of reminds me of when I was a kid.” _

She hummed curiously. “Really?”

_ “It wasn’t dark like this, but I remember dreaming of falling asleep and waking up needing to fight daemons. Carbuncle showed me.” _

“Carbuncle?” Her eyes opened.

_ “Uh…” _ His confidence fizzled.  _ “Yeah… Like, you know the blue fox thing with the horn like…” _

She heard Noctis stiffen.  _ “Like yours. Sie, are-” _

“I’m not Carby,” she cut him off right there. “I  _ know  _ Carby, though. He was the first Avatar I made a pact with.”

_ “I wasn’t sure if he was real,” _ Noctis murmured back. _ “I thought he was just a figment of my imagination.” _

She smiled. “Carbuncle is very real. He’s a teacher, and likes to appear in dreams and lead you along adventures and show you treasures in Dynamis.” She rubbed her face. “He’s probably been leading you here for a while without you realizing it, if I had to guess. Do you remember seeing him at all before you woke up here?”

_ “No,” _ Noctis replied.  _ “So, what do I do now? I feel awake, so, how do I wake up again?” _

She sucked on her teeth. “You’ll either wake up naturally, or something will wake you up from outside. It’s a lucid dream, which gives you an edge over us.”

_ “What do you mean?” _

“It means that nothing you can do will leave a permanent mark here, and you won’t be able to bring anything back with you, but you  _ can  _ travel as you see fit, like you could with any other dream,” she explained patiently, gesticulating at nothing. “I can’t go to you. Not right now. But  _ you  _ can come to  _ us  _ until the dream gives way and you wake up.”

_ “So, where are you?” _

“Somewhere just south of Ifrit’s colon,” she answered with a smirk while rising to her feet. Lehko was asleep again, so she tiptoed her way to her folded clothes, took them, and disappeared back around the corner to dress herself. “Let me just get dressed and I’ll talk you through getting here, okay?”

_ “Got it.” _

She set her phone down and hastily shimmied into the tight lappas and loose weskit of her attire, not caring to fully cinch up her laces or buckle her belt. She would’ve preferred to stay naked, but Noctis probably didn’t need that image in his head while he reconciled himself to a night in Dynamis. Probably part of the day, too, judging by the time. If Noct had only just arrived - suggesting he had only just fallen asleep - then he’d probably be with them until the afternoon, at the earliest.

This would be interesting.

Sie returned her phone to her hands, turned on the speaker mode, and hit the camera button. “Video call with me,” she said, trying to stay quiet. 

It took a moment before she saw Noct’s pale, drained face appear in a sea of darkness and odd-colored lines of the buildings and features around him. The lad didn’t know that a good, sharp whistle would dispel much of the black dust coating his nightmare. Not that it mattered much, if he would be joining them for a night. 

His face softened at the sight of her, weary eyes perking up before a friendly face and a clear connection.  _ “Hey.” _

She gave him a silly smile. “Hey, yourself. You ready for a better dream?”

_ “Please,”  _ he moaned, finding a little humor in his predicament.  _ “I really don’t want to be here.” _

“I’ll bet,” she nodded. “Just be glad it’s not Abyssea.”

_ “Abyssea?” _ He frowned, befuddled.

She waved it away. “A story for another day. First thing’s first: There are no daemons here.”

His eyes widened faintly.  _ “There aren’t?” _

“Well, there are Dark Kindred, but those are in Xarcabard, and are extinct, and aren’t daemons.  _ Demons,  _ not daemons. Anyway - you’ll probably see things that resemble daemons, but aren’t daemons. Make sense?”

_ “Not at all,”  _ he said with a weak smile.  _ “But, I’ll take it at your word. How do I get to you?” _

She chuckled lightly and re-oriented her phone. Another volcanic spring was at the end of the tunnel, and she turned her phone to show him. “See that?”

_ “Yeah,”  _ Noctis nodded. 

Sie got up and sat down beside the pool, being careful to show him exactly where she was sitting, and how. “I want you to shut your eyes and picture sitting beside me. Picture it really, really vividly, and then I want you to let yourself fall backward. Think you can manage that?”

_ “Not at all,”  _ he reiterated with a weak smile.  _ “But, I’ll try. Will it hurt?” _

She smiled back. “Not at all. It feels like warping.” Granted, she had no idea if that was true, as she couldn’t warp like he could, but a well-intended lie never hurt anyone.

A little bit of confidence returned to him at the mention of something familiar.  _ “Got it. I’m gonna hang up now and give it a try.” _

“That’s the spirit. Just remember: Hold the image in  your head and let yourself fall into it, like you belong there.”

_ “Okay. See you, Sie… I hope.” _

She hung up before he had a chance to talk himself out of it in front of her. Then, she inched to one side, giving Noctis a bigger spot to land so as to not fall ass-first onto her head. Not the most elegant way to greet a prince.

He wound up in her lap anyway.

Sie yelped and grunted when a heavy weight slammed down on her pelvis and thighs, followed by an ungainly body tumbling forward against her chest, narrowly avoiding her horn, and knocking her flat on her back.

She blinked, befuddled and wide-eyed, staring at the roof of the tunnel as the full weight of the Prince settled on top of her in a heap. He’d managed to put himself chest-to-chest with her, glassy-eyed and utterly taken aback. Indeed, it had felt like warping. Warping and still landing hard on top of a smaller, narrower body.

Sie coughed and wheezed from a pinched diaphragm and ribs.  _ “Get off me.” _

Noctis jerked and sat up too fast for his dizzy head, resulting in pushing himself up like a startled cat and tumbling backward. Were it not for a patch of moss, he might’ve cracked his head open on the porous black lava rock. 

Like a startled child unsure of whether to cry or not, he stared wide-eyed at her, and then frantically darted his eyes to and fro. It didn’t help that it was nighttime in the dark tunnel, and their only source of light was the idling elemental floating nearby. “Where…?”

She coughed and caught her breath, wincing at the feeling of bruised ribs. “You’re heavier than you look, kid,” she groaned.

He sat up like a shot, relief obvious on his face when he saw her. “It worked? I mean, am I really here?”

“Technically, no,” she replied simply. “You’re still dreaming. However, you’re currently sitting in the middle of a memory.”

“A memory? Of what?”

“Yhoator Jungle,” she answered with more infuriating simplicity, getting to her feet and helping him up. “We are currently standing in a place that existed over ten thousand years ago. I’m here to try and find something that belonged to the Infernian.”

Noctis blinked and nodded stiffly, resigning himself to the dream to stave off how real it really was. How could she talk so casually about going back to the memory of a place from so long ago? “It doesn’t feel real…”

“Because it isn’t,” she shrugged, encouraging the fire elemental to come closer for more light. Noctis flinched away from it until she waved him off to dismiss his concern. “Elemental’s mine. Don’t worry.”

“Elemental?” he parroted, staring at the thing like a new exhibit at a zoo. “Like in King’s Knight?”

“They’re just embodiments of elements,” she explained. “This little guy is our makeshift bonfire, and our sentry. Just one of these buggers can blow up half an imperial airship station. Trust me.”

He paused before flashing her a sly smile. “That’s how you did it? In Niflheim?” he asked, forgetting himself in her crazy stories and reassuring countenance.

She beamed, flashing white teeth. “You’d be amazed at the firepower in an elemental, and they’re so easy to sneak aboard an airship. Considering they don’t have bodies, they can just… slip between the cracks and seams.”

He gave her a playful punch to the shoulder. “You totally need to come with us to Altissia.”

“I was planning on it,” she hummed with a nod. “For now, though, we’re walking to the place Ifrit once called home. I have a hunch the thing I’m looking for is there.”

“So, what are you looking for?”

“A ring,” she explained. “In ages past - back when Lehko still had his baby fat - there were legends that suggested the Astrals would provide rewards for anyone that could best them in combat. One of Ifrit’s offerings was a ring. I’m not sure what it  _ does,  _ but…”

At the sight of sad sentimentality on her face, it clicked. Noct remembered their farewells at Wiz’s. He remembered watching her wracked with bloody tears in her sleep. Remembered Lehko becoming so concerned he disappeared into Dynamis to find the source of her misery. Then, when she woke, he could see it. See the loss of someone precious shining as clearly from her eyes as from his.

“It’s Ifrit, huh?” he asked, lowering his voice. “The one you lost.”

She grimaced and looked at her bare feet. “Don’t try to get in my way.”

Noctis blinked and leaned back. “Why would I? I mean, I know a little about Ifrit’s story. Everyone’s taught about it in school. How he brought the meteor that carried the starscourge?” He cocked a hand on one hip. “But you care about him, and you trust him, right? Enough to break down like that in your sleep. It was just like when I found out about my dad. So, if you have that much faith in the Ifrit you knew, I’m guessing there’s a lot I don’t understand.”

Her eyes were flickering to and fro across his face as he spoke, as if hunting for clues to a mystery, but finding none. The boy was deeper than she initially gave him credit for, but such was mandatory if he was to be the Chosen King. The sacrificial lamb.

Her blood curdled. She was staring into the innocent face of a young, innocent man, predestined to throw his own life away before he was ever given a choice. Born to be both nothing, and to be everything. A walking, talking fallacy.

She knew far too well what that was like.

_ I won’t let it happen, kid. Never,  _ she thought to herself.

“The Ifrit I knew isn’t the Ifrit history knows,” she sighed. “The Ifrit I know is intelligent and playful. I adored meeting him. He always got me into the worst trouble, but the best fun. He told me secrets about the Astrals that I wasn’t supposed to know. He protected me when I was in danger, and made sure my first time in bed was wonderful. He never hurt me, or threatened me. I felt I could trust him with everything I am and more.”

She realized she was smiling, her eyes starting to water. She wiped at them with the back of her hand as her lip quivered. “I sound crazy.”

“You  _ always  _ sound crazy,” Noctis drawled with a roll of his eyes, feigning annoyance. 

She chortled. “Yes, well… The things we do for love.”

It was Noctis’s turn to appear far away in his thoughts. Thoughts of the person that had always made him feel warm, loved, and desired. The person who he desperately wished to approach, but had none of the courage to do so.

Perhaps he’d tell Prompto how he felt before they set sail for Altissia. Like Luna had always suggested he do.

Sie took a couple of steps forward and eased Noct into a gentle hug. “I’d raise a toast, but I don’t have any cups. The best I can do is hug you.”

Noctis stiffened,  jolting in surprise as he smelled the scent of wild herbs in her hair, which was abruptly beneath his chin. “Oh- I…” he stammered, holding out his arms like touching her would hurt her.

“Just give into it, man,” she needled, hugging him closer and grabbing one of his arms to force to wrap around her back. “There you go. Let it happen.”

It was awkward, but he couldn’t help but melt into it. Iggy, Gladio, and Prompto were never the sort to deny a much-needed hug when they were called upon to deliver them, but Noct had never been one much for physical affection. Too long being coddled at arm’s length, and too long a victim of chronic pain in his spine and left leg made physical contact worrisome for the young princeling. King, technically, but Sie had enough self-awareness to figure calling him Your  _ Majesty  _ was a tad too wounding.

She drew a sharp breath to break through the haze of her confused grief over Ifrit. They were still standing in the adjacent lava tube to where she and Lehko had made camp. They didn’t have much in the way of camping supplies, but, as sovereigns of Dynamis blessed by Diabolos, they seldom needed the whole kit and kaboodle when they’d lived there. Divine favoritism was a helluva thing.

Nevertheless, Noctis had stood in the awkward, balmy darkness long enough. She jerked her head toward the mouth of the tube and gave him a swift pat to the shoulder as she brushed by him. “C’mon. Camp’s just this way.”

Noctis followed after her a half-step slower. She was confident in where they’d come to rest, but Yhoator was a true, vicious jungle unlike anything he’d ever seen before. The cacophony around them was enough to be maddeningly disorienting. How were Sie and Lehko able to stay sane in a place like this?

Sie had to stop them short when they rounded the corner and found Lehko, dead asleep, with his hair licked into a Prompto-level, vertical flip on one side. She hushed Noct long enough to take a photo to send to Ignis.

Noctis went rigid at the sight of the coeurl spooning Lehko. “Uh…”

She spoke in a gentle whisper. “It’s okay. She won’t hurt you. She has a crush on Lehko.”

He had to take her word for it. The elemental flew past him and took up its station before Lehko and the coeurl, just like a bonfire. 

Sie sat on an unoccupied patch of Lehko’s bedroll and patted the spot next to her. “C’mon. Lehk’ sleeps like the dead.”

He didn’t like the thought of putting his back to a wild coeurl, but her invitation was confident enough for him to, yet again, take her at her word. It felt nice to be so enveloped in warmth and friendly bodies. The others teased him about possibly fancying Sie, but they couldn’t have been further from the truth. He admired her, and he empathized with her, but his true heart was already taken by the one boy too oblivious to notice the moony-eyed stares he received every day from Noct.

Sie noted Noct’s melancholy sigh and brushed her arm against his in a show of solidarity. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I get it.”

Noctis peered into the white core of the elemental. “You know, I actually believe you.”

She smirked wide enough for her cheekbone to pinch her eye. “I’m older and stupider than I look, my fine friend. This world loves nothing better than to beat you into a pulp suitable for a compost heap.”

He made a face so exaggerated that she couldn’t help but beam at him. He shook his head. “You’re really weird.”

“Sure am,” she confirmed without offense, throwing her arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close. She had her phone’s camera open and poised it for a selfie. She smiled like a fiend. “Smile for the camera. Or don’t.”

“Uh, why? What?” he asked eloquently. 

Sie snapped the photo right as he looked his most confused. “Perfect!” she cheered, and immediately put a fetching filter over it and uploaded it to Chocogram, captioning it with,  _ “Hanging with friends in the jungle! Crotch sweat always feels better the more buddies you’ve got!”  _

“H-hey!” Noctis blurted, reaching for her phone. It was too late.

She nudged him, shooting him a clever wink. “Nifs will try to analyze the photo and try to figure out where you are based on it. Considering this is all just a dream and there  _ is  _ no jungle, they’ll be flying around in circles until their servers melt.”

Noctis blinked. “You think that’ll work?”

“How do you think Lehko and I terrorized Niflheim without ever getting caught?” she snickered devilishly, waggling her phone. “Duck into Dynamis, take some selfies, duck back out. Hard to pinpoint our location when it doesn’t exist, you know? One time, we had them sniffing around Galdin. Turns out, the beaches of Bibiki Bay look just as pretty and white as those outside the Quay, and have fewer tourists that aren’t flying fish and giant lemurs. Empire wasted a week trying to smoke us out while  _ we  _ were in Gralea tampering with some heavy machinery. Managed to push back their plans for an exploratory assault on Lucis for about a month.”

“You… did all that? For Lucis?”

“Spite, mostly,” she shrugged humbly. “We aren’t much for letting bullies run around unchecked without a proper limp, at least.” She elbowed him. “Glad we did. You’re a nice kid.”

His smile was a faint, stupid thing appearing and disappearing across his face far too soon. His eyes glimmered with appreciation and respect, even if he didn’t know what to do with her. “You know what? You guys are alright,” he conceded with a quick nod.

“We know,” she snickered, high cheekbones kissed pink from the warmth of the elemental. “Which is why we have a mind to throw you guys a little help from time to time. I can’t guarantee we can have your back as well as your friends do, but I’m not above raining some fire and brimstone on some Nifs. Glad you guys made it through alright.”

The smile that manifested on Noct’s face was much warmer and more genuine than his usual ones he handed out like business cards. “We would’ve been in a lot of trouble if you hadn’t helped. How did you know we needed you?”

“Ardyn,” she answered plainly. “His way of asking me out on a date.”

The smile vanished in place of a befuddled, mortified scowl. “ _ What?” _

The fact she wasn’t as upset as he was was definitely cause for concern. Nevertheless, she didn’t feign ignorance or disgust. Ardyn would just blurt it out in future, anyhow. “He has an interest in me and what I can do. He wanted to meet. I offered to satisfy his curiosity right then. With fire. He lived, though, so watch yourselves.”

“How can you be so calm about that creep chasing after you?!” Noctis barked, outraged on her behalf. He didn’t care if he woke Lehko. Which he wouldn’t. Lehko only woke to phone and message alerts (because it could be his sweet Iggy), or to any signs of obvious distress from her. “Did you even see how he was looking at you at Coernix?”

She blinked plainly. “I had to make a lot of eye contact to get him more interested in leering at me than at you. The only reason I was paying  _ that much attention  _ to him - including sharing a bed with him - was so you could get some rest.”

“But-”

She stopped him short with a raised hand between them. “I’ve danced this dance before. I’m not complacent, but I’m not on a hair-trigger, either. There are steps to the dance I’ve begun with Ardyn, and he knows that. Anything he does will come with a way of escape. That way, if I’m tripped up, it’s my own fault. It’s his form of flirtation. A grown-up version of dipping my pigtails in the inkwell.”

Noctis wrinkled his nose, feeling the whiskey in his stomach curdling. “So he  _ is  _ interested in you. That’s so…  _ so... _ ”

“Don’t tell me that’s surprising?” she huffed dramatically, glaring at him. “I’m a catch.”

“One he  _ wants  _ to catch,” Noctis retorted, folding his arms over his chest and hunching a little closer to the heat of the elemental. He scowled into its light, fighting off a disgusted shudder. “You act like you’d really go for him.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head while taking a shot. “Is it so surprising I would?”

Noctis shot bolt-upright and stared at her in horror. “But it’s  _ Ardyn!  _ He’s just… He’s just…  _ Ugh!  _ He’s the Imperial Chancellor! _ ” _

She cocked an eyebrow, the smirk accompanying her chuckle still evident on her face. “He’s also deliciously attractive,  _ knows  _ he’s attractive, and loves letting you  _ know  _ he’s attractive. Men like him never disappoint in bed.”

“But he’s so old…”

“Which makes me trust him to be competent, as well as confident. I’m fully comfortable with making sure half of his attention is on me, especially if it means a good round of hatefucking now and again,” she countered with a bawdy, toothy grin. “And he’s hardly old. Early forties  _ max.  _ You only see it as old because  _ you  _ are young.”

Noctis huffed and shook his head in distaste. “You’re not much older than I am.”

“That’s what  _ you  _ think,” she replied with a wink. “Trust me - I’ll happily throw myself on this particular grenade.”

“You can go from cool, to crazy, to gross faster than Prompto could snap pictures,” Noctis grunted, hiding his face in his knees and hugging them closer to his chest. “Why?” he asked, his voice muffled. “Gladio’s single.”

She snorted, which turned into a spouting laugh she had to cover with her hand. “Gods above and below, Noctis,” she tittered, shaking her head. She rubbed his back, silently mapping the path of the deep, cruel scar that had once rendered him unable to walk. She wasn’t a healer or doctor, but it didn’t take a genius to guess that a scar that prominent should’ve debilitated the Prince. 

Noctis twitched at the touch, leaning away a fraction, and then leaning back. She had a weird thing for Ardyn, sure, but he’d never seen her so much as use a weapon, other than the knife she used to cut open her palm. She carried around a hook sword, but the Prince wondered if she knew how to use it. It seemed like a weapon so finicky that not even Gladio would have any interest in fiddling with it. If it  _ was  _ for show, then all the more reason to quietly trust her touch.

“Deep scar,” Sie observed. Her fingers danced over it with enough pressure to make the most sensitive portion of the scar tingle. “I’m surprised you can walk.”

“So am I,” he agreed, reaching back to brush his fingers over the very top of the scar, hidden only a little way beneath the collar of his shirt. “I was attacked by a daemon when I was a kid. I was stuck in a wheelchair for a long time. The hospital I stayed in was where I met Luna.”

“The Oracle?” she guessed, unsure of who was what with these strange Tenebraean and Lucian bloodlines. “You were supposed to marry her, right? It was in all the papers in Tenebrae.”

His smile was thin. “Yeah. The Nifs negotiated it after backing us into a corner over the peace treaty. I was going to Altissia to marry her, but now… Now it’s for a different reason.”

“Leviathan?”

He nodded once. “Yeah. Luna is the one that’s been readying the covenants with the Astrals ahead of us. We were going to meet for the last one. I hope she’s okay.”

“I know enough of what’s gone on in Tenebrae to guess why she hasn’t met with you already. The Nifs want her as bait.”

He nodded, this time remaining silent. “My dad and I were in Tenebrae the day it was invaded and annexed. Luna was right in front of me when the Nifs burst down the door, killed her mother, and dragged her and her brother, Ravus, away. Dad could only rescue me. Ever since then, Luna’s been stuck in glorified house arrest, up until everything went to hell. She’s on the run, now. Trying to help without getting us in deeper trouble with the Nifs than we’re already in.”

Sie listened patiently, her hand never stopping in lightly stroking up and down Noct’s spine. His skin was getting hotter beneath her hand - a sure sign of muscles warming and relaxing beneath a kind touch. The way he slouched deeper against his knees was proof positive the stiffness in his back was easing up. She couldn’t begin to guess how painful it was for Noct to be stuck sleeping on hard-packed earth and stone so often. 

“Does it hurt much?” she asked, pointedly avoiding asking about Luna. The Prince didn’t need to cast his dream into a nightmare about her.

“It gets sore sometimes,” Noct replied quietly. “Sometimes, the pain gets bad enough that I have a hard time walking. The nerve damage in my spine hit my left leg the worst. If I’m not careful, it will even go completely numb on me. When the zu attacked us while you were asleep, it threw me against a tree, and I swear I was going to be paralyzed again. Lucky Lehko was there to heal me. I’ve never seen healing magic that strong before.”

“Lehko has particularly powerful light magic,” Sie agreed. “You’d think electricity would be his big thing, but you’d be wrong. Lehko can perform miracles when he needs to.”

Noct turned his head to regard her. “What kind of miracles?”

“He can put you to sleep just by singing to you,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “Works on humans and daemons alike. Just one lullaby and you’re out like a light. It’s particularly strong against daemons.”

Noctis blinked curiously, his silence encouraging her to continue.

She hummed thoughtfully, wondering how much to tattle. “His eyes are able to silence you, as well as make you forget how to so much as use the simplest of special attacks. I’m sure it would halt your warping, too.”

Noctis did a good job of masking his moment of terror at the prospect of being  _ that  _ debilitated, but nodded to urge her on.

“He’s able to condense light into a violent burst that can kill… a lot of daemons. Holy. It doesn’t work well on anything non-daemonic, but it’s gotten us out of a few nasty scrapes during our stint in Niflheim. And there’s Cure, of course. He can also dispel most poisons and other ailments if you let him touch you. And he can raise the dead without a phoenix down.”

“He can  _ what?”  _ Noctis’s eyes bulged from behind his messy fringe.

She grinned. “Once revived an entire village that had been wiped out by the Nifs. He was so pissed off by the violence those people died to that the magic even ensured they could die once more and come right back. Granted, that one took so much out of him that he was laid up for a month doing nothing but sleeping and waking long enough to eat and take a leak.”

Noctis turned at the waist to look down at the sleeping Lehko, the mithra now keeping their back to them and stuffing his face in the coeurl’s fur. The coeurl herself was bent at such an angle that she could wrap her neck around the crown of his head and nuzzle his back. It was almost enough to make Sie jealous.

“Do you think… No,” Noct sighed, turning back around to sulk before the fire elemental bobbing up and down like a heartbeat. 

She didn’t need to hear what he was thinking to know. She gave him a small, sympathetic smile. “It only works when the soul hasn’t yet left the body. By now, your father has long moved on. Lehko is good at pushing the soul back inside of a body, but can’t forcibly drag it back once it’s started its path toward the Beyond. Only Phoenix can do that, but has since lost the ability to in the wake of Bahamut stealing his wings and casting him down to Eos. Were he still in possession of his wings, he would have the power to completely wash this world in holy fire, purge it of its daemons, and breathe life back into the world like you wouldn’t believe.”

Her smile turned bitter and reproachful, the light of the elemental before them casting ghastly shadows on her face. “Had Bahamut not assaulted Phoenix, there would  _ be  _ no starscourge. No daemons. No need for sacrifices and constant, bitter battles over crystals and other trinkets. Ifrit would still be alive, too.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” Noctis murmured. “Why would Bahamut attack Phoenix if he could protect Eos like that? It doesn’t make sense. It just…” He ducked his head and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Why?”

“Phoenix was Bahamut’s god, and gods get jealous sometimes,” she sighed heavily, feeling Phoenix’s own weighty sigh in the back of her head. “Bahamut rules the Six now, but he’s just… He’s a god of war, and waged a war against Phoenix and, with his spoils - Eos - he doesn’t know what to do. A warmonger is only good at governing armies, not innocent people. Not humans. He solves problems with violence and bloodshed. Sacrifices. Fallow earth bears poor fruit, as they say.”

“You know you sound like Ardyn when you get lost in thought, right?” Noctis needled, wrinkling his nose at her. “You go from talking like a normal person to getting all poetic and dramatic.”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a shove. “Let’s just say that Bahamut picked a fight, and now doesn’t know what to do with the responsibilities of winning. Kids these days call that a clusterfuck.”

That was enough to urge an amused puff out of the Prince, even if the unfairness of it all had, apparently, torn Eos to bits and left mankind to scrabble for means of surviving against a plague that Phoenix could’ve annihilated. “So, I guess none of this would be happening if it weren’t for Bahamut?”

“I’ve been called a heretic for a reason, Noctis,” she replied grimly. “If you really want my opinion-”

“I do.”

“-then I will tell you that the only Astral I have ever had a care for was Ifrit, and they took him away from me,” she finished, eyes as hard as the copper in her irises. “I’ve thrown my lot in with Phoenix and the Terrestrial Avatars.”

“How could you do that if you also have relationships with the Astrals?” Noctis asked.

“By lying through my teeth,” she snorted. “It’s easier to deceive the Astrals than you’d think. They think so little of us that all it takes is a flash of magic they can react to to convince them to grant their blessings and whispers of their power. Then, I keep an eye on them. I use their magic. I listen to their whispers and learn their secrets.”

_ We lie so well, Shanriri. _

She twitched, hearing Phoenix’s voice at the nape of her neck, and forcing herself to remember that it was only an illusion, and it was only a whisper in her mind. She shook it off. “Dynamis is the only place where I can be honest. The Terrestrial Avatars are  _ my  _ pantheon. They’re my family. I grew up around them. I was adopted by them.”

Her eyes slid to him, watching him watch her. It was tense. How was a boy raised beneath the Six to truly accept the heresy that just spilled out of her mouth? Noctis didn’t seem like the religious type, but some of the things she alluded to were downright dangerous. 

Smiling gently, Sie gave Noctis’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll take you to meet them, if you want. So you can decide on whether or not you’ll ever let me call you Noct.”

Noctis flinched, eyebrows lifting to disappear beneath that mop of unruly fringe. “You can do that?”

She nodded, taking comfort in how he seemed placated by the offer. “I can’t take you to them tonight, but I’ll haul you into Dynamis again in the future and take you on an adventure. You should meet Diabolos.”

“That thing you pulled out of the sky?” he asked, his stomach sinking at the thought. Diabolos was terrifying to look at, and even more terrifying to see in action. When he had reached out and touched Sie after Titan fell, Noct very nearly drew his sword and rushed to her. 

“He rules Dynamis,” she reiterated for the umpteenth fucking time. “He knows you’re here, but isn’t one to interact unless asked for. I’ll have to take you into Pso’xja, to the Shrouded Maw. That’s his audience chamber.”

“I don’t like the sound of that...” Noct seemed to wither away from the prospect.

Her smile was subduing. “That’s alright, then. He only  _ appears  _ intimidating, but I understand why you’re nervous. I’ve known him most of my life, so I have a difficult time being too put-off by him. How about I show you to where Carbuncle once held his audiences?”

At that, Noct perked up, his churning sapphire eyes going bright from the light of the elemental. 

He looked like a fucking puppy.

She gave him a wobbly smile, unable to resist those eyes. “Gods above and below, you’re adorable.”

Noct started at that, but wouldn’t be turned off from the prospect of seeing Carbuncle. “You’re serious? You can take me to him?”

She nodded, still mooning over how sweet Noct looked when he was so full of excitement and hope. “Yes. And it’s no trouble getting there. You’ll like La Theine Plateau,” she promised with a sweet, unbidden smile that encouraged one out of him, in kind. “Tomorrow night, maybe? Whenever you’re able to rest somewhere comfortable for a full night. I’ll give you instructions via text so you can read them out that night. There’s a certain way of priming your mind for entering Dynamis instead of your own dreams.”

Noct nodded resolutely. “Yeah. I can’t wait!” he said with a broad, sweet grin.

Her heart broke.

_ Poor child, ignorant to his own fate,  _ she heard Phoenix hum from over her shoulder.

She grit her teeth.  _ He will be fine. _

Phoenix smiled against her neck.  _ Glad to be assured you remain onboard with  _ my  _ prophecy. _

Sie swallowed tightly, forcing her attention back on Noctis, who had very suddenly become agitated; rising to his feet as his sword appeared in his hand, and his face pulled into a hard scowl. 

Sie cocked an eyebrow, turning around and catching Noctis just in time. With her fingers coiling in his belt loop, she pulled herself up and stood in the way of Noctis and the four tonberries that appeared at the edge of the elemental firelight.

“Watch it,” Noctis hissed, muscle memory nearly taking control. “Those tonberries look…  _ wrong…!” _

“Actually,” Sie interrupted him as she straightened up. She placed a hand in the middle of his chest to further keep him still, “that is how they are  _ supposed  _ to look.”

Without any further explanation, Sie turned to the small party of tonberries and stepped forward enough to be in true danger if they had a mind to attack. Rather than brace for a fight, Sie dipped into an elegant bow that seemed to be very heartfelt. “Good evening,” she said with a smooth lilt, her eyes tender and fond. “You’re the ones we met some time ago, are you not?”

The tonberries nodded, their ominous lanterns casting eerie shadows on their bulbous, [malformed](http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/e/e6/Tonberry_1_%28FFXI%29.png/revision/latest?cb=20121215213507) faces. The leader, still escorted by a water elemental, shuffled toward her, presenting her with a small canvas bag, only barely able to fill her cupped hands. It was heavy, and jingled strangely as she manipulated it around in her hands.

She opened the bag. Her eyes went wide as she reached in and scooped out a wealthy handful of jewels and gold nuggets. “I…”

Her eyes flicked back up to the tonberries, full of shock. “For the Infernian?”

The tonberry nodded, taking up his summoning wand and pointing it toward Falbub, which poked out a little way from her pocket and shimmered with enough light for the tonberries to notice.

Sie looked between the horn and the tonberries, trying to decipher their meaning. When she did, her heart twisted. “To decorate it?”

The tonberry nodded once more, lifting its wand to tap the bag full of jewels and gold, and then pointing at the horn. Plain as day, the tonberries obviously wanted to aid her in her sacrament. The leader let out a tiny peep of confirmation, and another of quiet respect.

Sie’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. Phoenix writhed around in her mind, trembling with raw emotion that ripped both of their hearts out at once.  _ Always the most devout, the sweet Kuluu… _

Sie knelt down, well within range of a slashed throat if the tonberries decided they disliked her. She clutched the bag of gold and gems to her heart, while Phoenix took control of her other hand to do the same. “I will commune with Ifrit and tell him of this,” she promised with absolute certainty, her eyes searching the milky little beads of the tonberry’s. “This gift has touched me deeper than near any other gift could. Thank you, Kuluu,” she murmured, and cupped the tonberry’s cool, clammy cheek. “I will carry this with me to my grave.”

The tonberry chirped, putting away its wand to gingerly cup its nub-like hand over hers. Its ragged eyelids slid shut as it leaned into her touch.

A tear slid down Sie’s cheek.  _ I wish I could have been here for them. _

_ All will be done for the best, my girl,  _ Phoenix promised somberly.

Sie drew a shaky breath and kissed the tonberry on its broad, green forehead. “Thank you, Kuluu. Thank you.”

One of the other tonberries made a noise while shuffling forward. Its knife was tucked into a ragged rope around its robe, leaving room for it to hold up a box wrapped in cotton and tied off with a gauzy ribbon. It placed the box in her arms. It smelled of strange perfumes, all of which she couldn’t identify.

Sie found herself sitting cross-legged, surrounded by the tonberries. She set the bag of gems in her lap in order to focus her attention on the box. The tonberry that gave it to her offered her its knife so she could cut into the wrapping. “It’s not even my birthday…” she whispered, a tear falling to the white cotton wrapping on the box and rendering it a little transparent.

Taking the knife with a humble nod of thanks, Sie carefully cut into the wrapping and pulled it away, revealing a box made of rich, fragrant wood from the jungle; polished to the highest degree, and carved with tiny, ancient depictions of Kuluu history that she, regrettably, was never there to witness.

She would have to venture deeper into Dynamis for that. She made a note do to so.

The box - long and narrow - opened easily at her touch. Its latch was warm to the touch, and its hinges made not a sound. 

Within the box was a sword. A [khopesh](https://lubiblicalmuseum.weebly.com/uploads/7/6/4/7/76475503/2932320_orig.jpg), with a blade as black as night, and shone with rich, energetic fire; as if constantly capturing the reflection of a fire blazing just beyond its edge. Its length bore a fuller that twisted and turned into patterns she acutely recognized as belonging to Ifrit, were she ever able to summon his blood pact and bear the marks of his essence on her skin. In the center of its guard was a peculiar, tiny barb - like a thorn, which sat at the very beginning of that intricate fuller.

Its handle was gold, embedded with rubies, with a grip made of one of Ifrit’s own horns. 

A horn, just like her Falbub.

Sie gingerly took the weapon into her hands, eyes wide and glassy with tears. The pommel bore a cabochon of rose quartz, bearing a single ember at its core, thrumming like a heartbeat. Around its golden base was a single inscription:

_ Beloved daughter, my Falbub. _

Except, when she grazed her fingers along the ancient inscription, the gold seemed to melt; growing white-hot, morphing and changing, until the gold had formed a beautiful cage to encircle the rose quartz, while the ember within it began to glow brighter and merrier, and skipped a beat when she nervously brushed her fingers over its surface.

When the gold had reset itself, Sie’s breath hitched.

_ Eternally beloved, my Shanriri. _

Before she could burst into embarrassing, hysterical weeping, another tonberry approached her, its milky eyes seeming sad and sympathetic as silent tears ran down her cheeks. The gentle being carried another box - square and shallow - and presented it to her while she shook her head helplessly. “I think I may die without your grudges, at this rate,” she blubbered, smiling weakly, and taking the box anyway.

Inside, sitting upon a pad of glossy silk studded with pearls, was a sword belt. It was magnificent; craft like perfect, delicate lace, but made from hair-thin chain links made of gold. To the touch, it felt like satin. Every elegant curve, reminiscent of ivy, bore little dewdrops made of rubies which, to her, gave the suggestion of blood. Its clasp was volcanic glass in the appearance of Ifrit’s first shape - a demonic thing he’d been cursed to become long ago, in the story Lehko told her.

With the precious gifts in her hands, she looked up to the party of tonberries and gaped like a fish at them. “These… These were Ifrit’s daughter’s,” she surmised, voice a hoarse whisper as she clutched the sword, the belt, and the bag so close she nearly hurt herself on them.

The tonberry nodded somberly, and then pointed to the horn - Falbub - in her pocket. Then, it pointed to her heart.

She nodded, needing no further explanation. “You figured it out, did you?” she asked with a wry, sniffly smirk.

The tonberry nodded again, pointing at its own heart.

She took a tight, unsatisfying breath. “I go to the Cauldron to commune with the Infernian… because I love him.”

The tonberry nodded sagely, raising its nubbly little hand to its own heart. Then, it gently took her left hand and tapped her ring finger. An instant later, it pointed in the direction of the mountain they were but a day or two from. It pointed at its heart again, and then her finger.

She blinked, searching the tonberry’s malformed face. “The ring is there.”

It nodded, giving her finger a little squeeze. It poked the spot over her heart.

Once more, she cherished the tonberry’s cheek in her hand and smiled like a broken soul. “You have given me a gift greater than any person has ever given me, Kuluu.” She leaned forward, hovering her lips toward the tiny hole that was the tonberry’s ear.  _ “I have lived a very long time, and you have just soothed a great deal of grief.” _

She leaned away, eyebrows knitted close and high. She didn’t know how the tonberries knew to bring her such offerings and kindnesses, but she could guess. The Kuluu were always an incredible race of incredible power, and often saw through things they shouldn’t. It made her wonder…

She closed her eyes and took another breath. It made her wonder if a certain Goddess had heard her prayers. Lehko spoke so highly and fondly of Her, it truly made her wonder. It truly made her  _ wish.  _

Regardless, the most important thing was for Sie to go around to all four tonberries, regardless of how Noctis was still watching in stunned horror, and pull them into hugs. One for every gift… especially one she’d yet to receive.

Just before she was about to hug the last tonberry, it presented her with a box that smelled thickly of food.  _ Tonberry cooking. _

Sie’s eyes lit up, a grin breaking out on her face to combat the tears. She opened the box up to find multiple layered compartments bearing multiple meals - most of which were surprising favorites of hers. Once more, she suspected some influence from someone or something that had these four tonberries arriving with the very things that would ease her troubled heart, and bring her closer and closer to her dearest Ifrit.

She hugged that last tonberry tight enough to make it squeak. “Would you all care to join us around the fire?” she asked with true interest. 

The tonberries exchanged looks before the leader - the summoner - nodded eagerly. Thunder was beginning to roll in the jungle, and the first of many fat drops of rain were slapping onto the heavy, wide leaves of the ivy and creeping plants that littered the jungle. The Temple of Uggalepih was a fair way away, which would leave the tonberries to slog through the mushy earth all the way back. She would rather share camp with them until daybreak, having always enjoyed the shared company of others at her camp.

She smiled and stood with her prizes in her hands, gesturing along the way to the fire elemental keeping their camp comfortably warm and safe.

Noctis flinched, backing away as the tonberries toddled along to where Lehko still snoozed against his fuzzy girlfriend, who couldn’t care less about new people approaching. The way Lehko purred could put a behemoth at ease. She chuckled at him while removing the sword belt from its box and wrapping it around her hips. Unsurprisingly, there was magic in it that caused the belt to spring to life and fit itself perfectly to her waist. She hooked the khopesh to it after that, and then used the light of the elemental to peer into the bag full of ingredients perfect for crafting a handle for Falbub.

“You can put your sword away,” Sie said reassuringly to Noct. “They’re not here to hurt you.”

“But they’re-”

“ _ Not  _ daemons,” she asserted firmly as the tonberries found their own comfortable spots by the elemental to hunker down. “The starscourge manifests its daemons using the echoes and memories of ancient species. These Kuluu are sentient. They are people. Granted, they’ll absolutely murder you, but they’re friends to us right now.”

Noctis’s eyes flicked between the tonberries and her face before he reluctantly put his weapon away and hung his hands by his sides. He moved to sit by her, ducking around the tonberries like they were spiders in a bathtub. Logic dictated that staying close to the Summoner would keep him out of range from any tonberries that changed their minds.

She smirked and nudged him with her shoulder, cracking open the box full of food and showing him. “Their cooking is better than anything you’ll ever taste, and I’ve tasted a lot of cooking in my life.”

Noct batted his eyes. The first plate was delicately fried fish, chips, a little container of vinegar, sliced lemon, and tartar sauce. It looked as normal as any other plate of fish and chips but, when Sie pulled up a little fork already placed by the plate, eagerly peeled away a bite of fish, and brought it to her lips, she practically had an orgasm.  _ “Seriously,  _ Noctis,” she groaned from around the bite still in her mouth,  _ “you’ve gotta try it.” _

Noctis stared down at the plate incredulously. Tonberries were daemons. He  _ knew  _ they were daemons. How could he comfortably eat food prepared by daemons when the scourge was so infectious?

Yet, going by the way Sie tucked in, he found it hard to argue. She passed him her fork and nudged him again to try a bite and…

...His eyes glazed over. The fish was so damned good he could’ve gotten hard from it. How something so simple could be made to taste so orgasmic, he didn’t know. He  _ did  _ know that he went from skeptical, to demolishing half the plate in an instant. Sie flicked his ear when he started in on her half of the plate. “Easy there, princeling. This may be a dream for you, but I’m damned hungry,” she warned, good-natured and smiling still.

“ _ Mmh… Food… Where food…?”  _ Lehko’s sleep-delirious voice rumbled in, mid-purr, from behind them.

Noct nearly jumped out of his skin, while Sie smiled knowingly. She turned at the waist and snapped a swift photo of Lehko looking completely and utterly smashed; hair askew and vertical from serious coeurl lovin’, and eyes crossed stupidly. She snickered at him. “Hey, sunshine.”

“...Food…” Lehko grumbled, his nose zeroing in on the box. He wouldn’t acknowledge anything else until she speared a bite and stuffed it in his mouth.

Once more, a look of ecstatic bliss. Lehko nearly fainted at the taste.  _ “Fuck…” _

This time, it was the tonberries to titter at him, covering their mouths with their little hands as their milky eyes upturned with mirth.

“Kuluu…?” Lehko garbled, finally sitting up completely, looking about, and raising an eyebrow at Noctis. “Hmm…?”

“Just a dreamer,” Sie explained, patting Lehko on the shoulder and snapping a brief selfie of the two of them. 

Lehko grunted in acknowledgement and looked to the tonberries again. “The Kuluu from earlier,” he observed, able to smell them clearly. “Are they alright? They weren’t being harassed by goblins, were they?” he asked Sie, knowing it would be difficult to extract information from the creatures. 

Sie shook her head and smiled waveringly. “They brought me gifts from Ifrit.”

He nearly gave himself whiplash. “How do you mean?”

Sie passed the box of food to Noctis, regardless of how foolish it was, and revealed the sword belt, the sword, and the bag of gems and gold. “Ifrit’s sword belt, and the sword he gifted Falbub.”

Lehko’s eyebrows lifted. “How in all the hells did they get those?”

Sie shook her head. “I don’t know, but I’m grateful.” She plucked up the bag and handed it to him. “They brought materials for the horn, too,” she said softly.

Lehko’s eyes shot up to the tonberries, all watching them with interest. Their weapons were put away, and their lanterns were set beside them while they reveled around the merry fire elemental. “Kuluu,” he called, still hilariously unaware of what the coeurl did to his hair. He asked them a question in a language Sie didn’t know, his tail flicking to reveal his fascination.

The tonberries exchanged glances before the leader nodded gently in reply to whatever Lehko’s question was.

Lehko’s eyes widened. His mouth snapped shut. He turned to Sie and bent to whisper in Mithran (which she knew),  _ “This is no memory conjured by Dynamis. These are no mere echoes. The Dawnmaidens still live.” _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not altogether sure I'm happy with this chapter, but I still had fun with it.
> 
> In FFXI, it's possible to accrue something called "tonberry hate" if you go around killing tonberries willy-nillie. Acquire too much hate and you run the risk of being one-shot by the woeful "everyone's grudge," which calculates your hate among the individual tonberries you've killed and uses it as a damage multiplier. Too much hate usually meant instant death.


	15. An Actual Dream Within a Dream Within a Dream

Her eyes went wide, like his. _“You mean to say this is real? That…?”_

Lehko shook his head. _“I dare not hope, but it may be possible. The Caits do not know what befell her, but we feel a shift in the order. Something is happening, though we know not what. Best let it be for now, Shanriri. Stay your hopes and focus on Ifrit. Answers will come if you pursue your love. I am sure of it.”_

Sie nodded grimly and clutched the handle of the sword. It felt comfortable. It felt alive and happy when she touched it, not unlike handling Falbub; save for this one wasn’t chaotic and wild - prone to burning a tad too hot. The handle was warm and made her feel safe. Made her feel empowered by the god she loved.

 _“They say I need the ring,”_ she whispered, ignoring Noct’s suspicious glances while he continued to eat her share of the food. _“And I ought to wear it on my wedding finger.”_

Lehko’s face softened. His smile was quivering. He shifted back into English. “I think he would like that, going by how he seems to feel for you.”

She smiled back and nodded tenderly, hand coming to cup the rose quartz cabochon that beat with a gentle heart. It skipped when her fingers grazed over it. “I like the thought of surrounding myself with him, in absence of a hug.”

Lehko laughed while swatting Noctis’s hand and stealing the food box for himself. He didn’t even look at the Prince as he did it, and grinned when Noct made a thoroughly disgruntled, bratty noise. With the first layer of plates blown through, he lifted the layer and revealed a plate of perfect mithkabobs made of buffalo meat. There were enough skewers for everyone, luckily.

 _Dearest,_ Phoenix suddenly murmured to her. He sounded tender, and she could see him with lidded eyes and a gentle expression beneath the cosmetics he always wore. She could see him cupping her cheek and playing with her hair. _Perhaps you have just been granted your salvation._

She paused in her conversation with Lehko and Noctis to furrow her brow and focus on Phoenix (which he always loved). _Don’t instill me with false hope, Phoenix._

 _I’m not, this time,_ he replied breathily. _The prophecy shifts. There are possibilities abound. Perhaps, when we have a smidgen of time, we ought to pay a visit to the Spitewardens and commune with our dear Atomos._

_I hate the Spitewardens._

_I wasn’t asking._

She made an annoyed huff, forgetting herself and earning her a perplexed look from Noct.

“Just lost in thought,” she lied, waving it off. “Worried about whether we remembered a damned ice cluster.”

“Just check our stock,” Lehko sighed, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure we have one.”

“What’s an ice cluster?” Noct asked from around a bite of divinely-seasoned buffalo meat. The skewer had absolutely no vegetables. Just meat from different parts of the animal, cooked and season to taste utterly different to the last bite.

She chewed around her skewer. Lehko intervened. “Do you remember me showing you synthesis?”

Noct nodded. “Yeah, it was cool.”

“Clusters are simply clusters of those elemental crystals,” the tomcat elaborated. “They break apart into multiple other crystals, and are generally only found on elementals. At the volcano, we’ll be forced to confront a large wall of fire that often doesn’t go down for a few days, unless you use an ice cluster to temporarily freeze the wall. It’s inconvenient, but the only way to Ifrit.”

Noct wrinkled his nose at that. “Why not fly over it?” he asked.

Lehko glared at Sie like she put him up to the annoying question. “Because there are multiple aerial beasts that traverse the Cauldron. If we’re seen, it can be inconvenient. Better to simply break the cluster and continue on covertly.”

Noct snorted, picking at one of the lumps of meat and licking his fingers. “You sound like Iggy.”

Lehko grinned, his hand skating over the outside of his thigh to feel his phone in his pocket. He wanted to text Ignis, but the lad was likely still asleep and didn’t need pestering. At least he could rest assured in knowing he was keeping Ignis’s sleeping charge safe in such a tricky, deceptive world as Dynamis.

“Now,” Sie cut in, hiding a smirk at the faraway look Lehko got in his eyes at the mention of his new little boyfriend. “I only intend to get far enough into the Cauldron for me to make the way to Ifrit’s domain myself. I mostly just needed Lehko for the trek through the jungles. That said; if you’re still with us, you’re welcome to remain with Lehko until you wake up. The rest of the way to Ifrit’s domain is hot, miserable, and dangerous. Lehko can take you somewhere more fun.”

Noct looked between Sie and Lehko, truly conflicted. On the one hand, Ifrit’s Cauldron sounded like a miserable hellhole. Lehko could take him somewhere nice and comfortable until someone shook him awake in the morning. If he went with Sie, it would be a miserable path full of dangers… but she wouldn’t be left alone. A deep pit formed in his chest at the thought of that one little woman venturing alone into somewhere that shitty.

He wondered where Lehko would take him, if he chose to go with him.

“It would likely take until you woke up for me to get all the way to Ifrit’s old throne,” Sie shrugged. “Which means you wasted a night in Dynamis making yourself into one of Ignis’s smoked sausages. Lehko, on the other hand, could take you forward or back in time to practically wherever you want.”

Noctis appeared to give the suggestion a lot of thought. Part of Sie hoped he’d come with her, given the lonely nature of her side of the adventure. On the other hand, she’d planned on continuing the trek alone, devoting the whole of her attention to reaching that ring and taking time to idly pray to the Infernian who once resided there, in the heart of the volcano.

Noctis perked up, seeming to have come to a decision. “Do you think I could see where you live?”

Sie and Lehko exchanged curious looks. Lehko spoke first: “That’s it? You want to see where we live?”

Noct nodded confidently. “Well, yeah. Why not? It must be somewhere nice, if you guys can pretty much choose wherever you want to live.”

Lehko’s grin was a heartfelt one. “We’ve lived in many places, and keep several houses. Most of Sie’s life was spent making new lives together in different times, and different places.”

“Take him to our place out in Lower Jeuno,” Sie suggested merrily. “The Archduke may call on us again while you’re there.”

“Lower Jeuno?” Noctis parroted curiously.

Sie nodded. “In this era, the crown jewel of all the lands was a city called Jeuno. We have a flat there, with our moogle.”

Noct’s eyes flashed, head snapping at whiplash speeds to face her. “Moogle?”

They shared a wicked grin that was impossible to tell who learned it from whom. Sie waggled back and forth, eager as anything to excite Noct. “They exist, you know. Or they did. Ours acts as a miniature chamberlain for us. We call him Mog. He makes sure to move into anywhere we live in this era to help keep track of our business here. You should go with Lehk’ to meet the little guy. He always likes new guests.”

Noctis’s innate sense of chivalry and duty wavered. It was one thing to escort a lone woman with a suspicious amount of power. It was another to see for certain that moogles were _real._

Lehko’s eyes glittered. “That looked like a, ‘Let Sie handle herself so I can meet Mog,’ face,” he snickered, all nothing but good-natured and welcoming. “When we get to the Cauldron, you can come with me.”

“Just keep him away from Kam’lanaut,” Sie sneered suddenly. “Always a twat, that one, and always making lofty demands like we’re gods there to grant his prayers.”

“Sie, he’s not wrong in guessing so,” Lehko chided. “You’re the one that summoned Garuda _in front of him_ during the war.”

She sucked her teeth. “It’s not my fault he couldn’t organize a resistance effort at the gates to Lower Jeuno against the damned quadavs. If he’d designated Windurstian troops to that bulwark _like I said,_ it wouldn’t have necessitated Mother to come down and watch my ass.”

Noctis’s eyes darted left and right like a tennis match. “Huh?”

Sie huffed, looking back to Noctis with a sour little scowl on her face. “When we came to live in this world, the safest thing for my mortal mind to handle was choosing a time, going to its memory, and carving out a life there. When I was younger, we lived in Lower Jeuno during the Crystal War, which was particularly ugly throughout most of the world. Even though it was all simply a memory, we’d decorated our apartment _just right_ when things got particularly bad in Jeuno. Not wanting to have to deal with the fallout, Lehk’ and I joined the resistance and decided to help with the war effort.”

“Even though it’s a patch in history, we can still influence its future. That’s when Dynamis shifts from being a memory, to being a dream,” Lehko elaborated with a wave of his hand. “It’s when history went from carrying itself out as it truly did, to Dynamis estimating the future if we had truly been there. Right now, at this particular date, we’re due to pay our rent in the next fortnight.”

“You’d be surprised at how intelligent the memories are here,” Sie continued. “Kam’lanaut, the Archduke of Jeuno, and his brother, Eald’narche, were once immortal beings. The Crystal War was a long time ago, yet we still technically have our place in Jeuno. The Archduke has already noticed that we haven’t truly aged much - since we’ve bounced between different times and different places a lot - but has raised a silent promise between us. We don’t mention his immortality, if he doesn’t mention our situation.”

Noctis nodded slowly, still looking unconvinced, but lacking any other arguments or questions to ask. Dynamis was definitely weird, and there was obviously something going on with Sie he didn’t yet understand. Lehko, sure. He’d reconciled himself with a talking cat person that’s lived longer than he thought possible, but Sie…

He eyed her, frowning. There was definitely something about her he didn’t know, but was it truly wise to ask now? In their element? He had no idea what they could do to him in Dynamis if he asked the wrong questions or hit the wrong buttons.

He let it slide. For now. There would be a time for the truth. At least Sie was devoted to being nice to him and the others.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis had arrived with them in the middle of the night, meaning Sie could only tolerate staying awake a couple of hours longer. Lehko made a point of treating their tonberry friends (and Noct, too) to cooking of his own sort. Nothing was ever as good as tonberry cooking, but repaying them with cooking of their own was good manners with them. Lucky enough that Lehko’s cooking was good enough to earn polite peeps from the little green party before them.

She and Noctis both found themselves slumping back against the coeurl, Noctis discovering that it was possible to nap while he technically slept. It was good to see him do so. Sleeping in Dynamis often resulted in double the rest, and double the soothed mind.

The tonberries, too, began to wilt a bit. They had been tired when they’d arrived, and became all the more exhausted as Noctis withered into the coeurl, followed by Sie, who was snuggled up with all of the tokens from Ifrit they’d given her. Lehko rummaged about for extra bedrolls and pillows, offering them up to the grateful tonberries, while leaving Noctis to snore into the coeurl’s fur, earning him purrs in return.

 

* * *

 

 

The young prince’s dreams were technicolor and utterly unique to any he’d had before. In his slumbering mind, color bled into divinity, and sound bled into the choir of the heavens above. He saw the pale blue sky of the early morning, and the midnight universe littered with stars. He felt as if he was flying, as well as feeling flat on his back. He felt free and open, and grounded with an oppressive amount of attention poured over him like honey.

He felt touches on his face, as well as a cool kiss of relieving wind. He was in his bed, and was floating in the middle of a great sea of wonders. He heard voices both familiar and unfamiliar; singular and multiple. He breathed of crisp, sweet air, and oppressive, close fog.

“He can come back, you know. They all can,” a playful voice wavered and cut through the riot of sounds and sensations.

His brow furrowed despite himself. He stared uselessly skyward, unable to turn his head. “Who…?”

“All of them! They can all come back. Even the ones you never got to know.”

He tried to so much as move his eyes, but even they were locked in place; paralyzed to the frenetic wonder that ebbed and flowed around him. “I don’t… understand…”

The voice was both cloying and seductive. “I can make it so,  you know. All of them, back as if rising from a midday nap…”

He was getting frustrated. Noct frowned deeply. “Quit it.”

Manicured fingers lightly carded through his hair, sending little shockwaves of warmth and pleasure through his scalp to make his eyelashes flutter. “All you have to do is say no. They all come back. Just deny them, Your Majesty.”

“Deny _who?”_ he moaned, struggling against the force holding him still. No luck.

He felt the pad of an index finger come to settle in the center of his forehead, and then drag down along the pretty line of his nose, over his lips, and sliding along the center of his throat. “Why, the ones that want to kill you, of course,” the voice replied as if it was right in his face. “Just say no, and they all come back.”

The hand - sunkissed and golden, littered with jewels, and draped in scarlet silk - settled over his heart. From that angle, Noctis could see the hand was holding a black phoenix feather over the rising staccato of his heart. “Just say no, Noctis Lucis Caelum,” the voice said. A second arm appeared, bearing a familiar dagger with a phoenix for a handle.

The blade lifted, poised over the feather covering Noct’s heart.

_“Just say no.”_

Noctis arched, panic overwhelming him. _“No!”_ he cried as the dagger fell.

And then, he was above himself, watching his body sinking into a lake of crystalline light. Down below, at the bottom of the lake, was the Crystal; familiar and terrible. Wisps of shimmering fog attempted to rise from around his feet, coil around his ankles, and pull his soul down to join his wan, unconscious body, drawn inexorably before a fate Noctis had no desire to consider yet.

He jerked his legs, trying to pull away from the wisps of crystalline vapor threatening to drag him down. It felt like fighting his way out of ankle-deep mud, and when he inevitably lost his footing, he cried out in terror as his back met the water, and many more tongues of fog attempted to coil around him. “Get the hell off me! Let me go!” He thrashed, hissed, and spat. He felt the water beginning to soak into his clothes as he breached the invisible barrier he’d been standing on.

His tangible body had already sunk to the bottom and, with a flare of frightening light, disappeared into a void hidden within the Crystal’s depths.

He thrashed and _screamed,_ like he once did when he was a boy, just after his back had been broken and a daemon had nearly taken him. He _screamed_ as the clawing, grasping power of the Crystal hooked firmer around his ankles, pulling him down feet-first.

Noct kicked and struggled, clawing at the galaxies in the black sky above.

From the darkness, as he groaned and panted in his frenzy to escape, a figure emerged. With nightmarish fanfare, Ardyn materialized above him, close enough to step on his head, if he wanted. “Now, _Noct,”_ he purred, searing bedroom eyes pinning Noct were he floundered. He squatted down, smile sardonic and vicious.

He grabbed Noct’s wrist, holding it in a grasp that would bruise, and reached into a pocket in his coat.

The Ring of the Lucii glittered temptingly, and dreadfully, between two of Ardyn’s fingers. The Chancellor’s grin twisted into something mad. He forced Noct’s left ring finger to straighten out, and began to slide the Ring on him. “It’s fate, after all…” Ardyn snickered.

Dizzy with the kind of fright only a nightmare could induce, Noct thrashed and, despite all the value of the Ring, and all it symbolized, screamed, _“No!”_

At that, the vision of Ardyn dissolved, and there was instead a hand around his wrist, pulling him out of the greedy, saccharine pull of the Crystal below. He was yanked back on his back, onto the comforting, invisible layer of water tension keeping him from falling back in. His shoulders were propped against a person’s thigh, and a familiar, manicured hand came down over his heart. The Ring of the Lucii was on the person’s finger instead.

Noct gazed up, gobsmacked and dream-mad. The figure holding him was dark, as a parasol cast a pitch black shadow over him. All Noct could see were a pair of otherworldly copper eyes, narrowed to hint at a Cheshire smile. “It’s such a weight, isn’t it?” the unfamiliar creature’s voice echoed at him from all sides, sounding utterly alien; like understanding a language he didn’t remember learning.

“Is… what…?” He felt sluggish. The Crystal was still pulling at him, but the person over him was warding it off with his mere presence.

“All of it, of course,” the person cooed at him, stroking his cheek with the hand that wasn’t wearing the Ring. “None of it is fair, is it? None of it. Not even the things they haven’t told you yet, my love.”

Noctis furrowed his brow in a way that the figure seemed to find adorable. His smile was in his eyes, since Noct couldn’t see it on his mouth. It made Noct frown even more. The weight of the Ring on his chest was as oppressive as the shadow looming over him. “Don’t push so hard,” he complained nonsensically, utterly disoriented.

The figure hummed curiously. “I wasn’t pushing you.”

Noct glanced down at the hand on his chest, and the Ring, with a pointed scowl. “It’s too heavy,” he said, confirming the figure’s question. “Take it off.”

“Don’t you want the Ring?”

 _“No,”_ he said with surprising honesty. It was only a dream, after all. “Get rid of it. I don’t want it.”

The shadowy figure looked pleased, the strangely-familiar copper eyes shining down from his shadow like wet globs of molten metal. “What shall I do with it, then?” he asked sweetly, canting his head to one side and heralding the tickle and chime of dozens of ornaments in his hair. “Break it into pieces? Hide it so nobody ever finds it to give back to you?”

Noct found himself rolling onto his side, trying to get the weight off his chest. His forehead and nose pressed against soft, scarlet silk covering a warm, soothing body. He wanted to curl up like a child and find somewhere obscure and hard to find to sleep in.

Petulantly, Noctis growled, “If you’re gonna wear it, _you_ have it,” against the figure’s firm stomach. “I miss my dad…”

The hand that didn’t bear the Ring came down to loosely card through Noct’s damp hair. A wash of divine warmth flooded through the Prince, providing him with a comforting heat that helped push away his woes.

“I don’t want it to steal my life,” Noctis went on, curling up tighter and entrusting even more vulnerability with the figure. It was only a dream, after all. “I just want…”

“Prompto?” the figure supplied. “Lunafreya?”

The figure smelled of sweet, rare perfumes. Noctis pressed closer to him, using the scarlet silks and shadows to blot out the sensation of the Crystal beneath them. “I miss Luna,” he breathed, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw. “And Prompto…”

“Loves you.”

Noctis jolted, whipping his head around to stare back up into the figure’s copper eyes. “What?”

The figure dragged a painted fingertip down the side of Noctis’s face. “He’s loved you a long time… His attentions are wrapped around you like ribbons.”

“How do you…?” Noctis tensed.

“I can see to it that you are free to pursue him,” the figure all but interrupted, eyes training on Noct’s face like a snake primed to strike. “That fate and prophecy never separates you,” he added with a toss of his left hand, where the Ring glinted.

Noct’s eyes followed the ring, some air of lucidity returning to him at the sight of the white-blue light within the gem. “But, Luna...”

Noct felt numb as the jewel’s light gleamed a little brighter and, quite suddenly, shifted color. Veins of rose gold appeared in the surface of the ring, as if it had been broken and remade, and the gem itself bled yellow, then copper, and then the same bloody red as the darkest, richest of garnets. The relief of the Draconian’s head began to melt, and then reforge into the head of a mythical bird.

“Just remember…” the figure murmured in his ear, “...You can always tell them _no.”_

Noct opened his mouth to question the figure, only for his breath to leave him in a rush. A sharp, hot pain struck him between the ribs.

When he looked down, he saw a glass feather, dipped in rose gold, pinned to him by a Phoenix-head knife.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That felt shorter than usual. I'll try to get more of this worked on. I've been ill lately, which has made it tricky for me to churn out chapters very quickly. 
> 
> Stay tuned for more Phoenix shenanigans and adventures in Vana'diel! And Eos, too, I guess.


	16. In the distance, Diabolos laughed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I also tagged this fic for you fans of Prompto and Noctis?

There was already a bucket ready for him to throw up in.

Noct awoke with a scream, a retch, and an upturning of his stomach into a wooden wastebasket. He was shivering, drenched in sweat, and tangled up in unfamiliar blankets in an unfamiliar place.

He was blind with fright until he noticed Lehko sitting by his hip, carding his hair back from his face, and hushing him. “There you are,” he said with that warm-yet-cool murmur that made people swoon. 

Noctis grunted and moaned, curling up on himself. Lehko’s healing magic was soaking into his head before he realized he even had a migraine. “What happened?” he moaned. “Where are we? Are we still in Dynamis?”

Lehko stroked up and down his back. “Yes. You’re in our apartment in Lower Jeuno. You were in quite the state as you slept; unconscious all the way to the Cauldron. Sie wishes you well.”

It had all been just a nightmare, but why did his chest hurt?

Noctis gingerly sat up and accepted a glass of cool water from Lehko. He felt tacky with sweat, both from the Jungles, and from his dream. “Nightmare,” he explained loosely, making a point of not staring into the water in his glass. Memories of the Crystal dragging him down like an undertow were still fresh in his mind.  “I’m sorry I missed seeing her off. I would’ve liked to have said goodbye, at least.”

Instead of looking in his cup, he took stock of everything around him. The room was charming; suited to a comfortable lifestyle. He could hear from an open window above him the sounds of hustle and bustle in the street down below. It was midmorning, by his estimation. He could smell a marketplace, as well as the distant scent of engine grease and airship fuel. He smelled the ocean, and heard the soft cries of gulls long gone extinct.

The bed beneath him was twin-sized - another sign of a cozy living. The bedding, though rumpled, was decorated with black feathers and adorned with things like broaches from around the world. On one wall was a display of Lehko’s contribution to the Windurstian War Warlocks during his time spent as a military tactician. There were more trinkets and prizes from his travels and deeds hanging around the walls, including his badges and echelons displayed on a weathered belt bearing his old standard-issue dagger.

The room had a sense of comfortable, controlled chaos; interesting curios set out on tables. A chessboard with only some of the pieces standing up was on a little end table by a well-loved loveseat. The place smelled like chocobo feathers and the musky tang of leather polish and sword oil. Overhead was a large lamp lit by motes of white-yellow magic contained in a crystal bulb.

“My room,” Lehko confirmed before Noct could ask. “She can sweat it out in the Cauldron. Don’t tell her I said it, but I would abandon her for this flat in a heartbeat,” he chuckled, showing a thin smile that didn’t quite touch those dreamy eyes. In truth, Lehko was merely antsy for a chance to pin Ignis to a tree again.

Noct tilted his head at some strange, almost shamanic mask hung proudly above the small fireplace. It was damaged; one half of one of the sweeping wings constructing it having been blown off with signs of fire damage. It seemed out of place in the room. “So… what’s that?” he asked, pointing.

Lheko followed his eyes. “Ah. That’s the mask of [Tzee Xicu the Manifest](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/3/3b/Tzee_Xicu1.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20060809024252). An old leader of the Yagudo Theomilitary. They worshiped her like a god, claiming that she was able to sing to the gods, and the gods would answer her. Sie took it as a challenge, and spent six months demanding I refer to her as  _ Your Holiness  _ after she blew the mask from Tzee Xicu’s face.”

Noct looked puzzled. “What’s a yagudo?”

“A race of beastmen,” Lehko indulged him. He sat back, crossed his legs, leaned on one hand, and gesticulated a bit. “Bipedal avian people, oft resembling ravens or crows. Extremely intelligent, and one of the greater dangers of the Crystal War. Tzee Xicu herself held pacts with the Astrals and could call upon their aid, just like Sie.”

Noct blinked, turning his eyes to train on Lehko’s profile. The regal feline’s hair was damp from a shower with herbaceous soaps and combed back, revealing more of his face than usual. More often than not, it was mostly obscured by that wavy, wheat-yellow hair hanging past his chin. Keeping his hair combed back revealed, rather to Noct’s surprise (and yet, what was he expecting?), Lehko had no ears where a human would. The cat’s ears on his head were not decorative or vestigial. The skin where he would’ve had human ears was perfectly smooth, and was usually largely covered up by how his hair had grown to overtake the area. The stripes on his cheeks disappeared clear into the line of his hair, leaving Noct to wonder how long they were.

“I don’t know why that surprises me so much,” Noct mused with a touch of pink in his cheeks. “I don’t know. She’s the only one I’ve ever seen do it, so I kinda just assumed I’d never hear of anyone else that could do what she does.”

“It’s a great rarity,” Lehko said, as if trying to reassure him. “To be able to reach out and speak to the gods requires some part of a person to carry a special resonance that most average people can’t. [For Tzee Xicu,” he nodded at the mask, “it was her voice.](http://ffxiclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Tzee_Xicu_the_Manifest/Deviant_Warlord) She could sing and be heard. For Sie, it’s in her blood. It’s as if she carries the same blood type as the gods, and so can give and take from them.”

Smiling a little, Lehko bumped Noctis’s arm and winked one pretty, cerulean eye. “It’s in your blood, too. You couldn’t receive those covenants if it wasn’t. And the Oracle, Lunafreya - she is like Tzee Xicu, albeit with less squawking.”

Suddenly, Lehko sobered, and his melancholy gaze fell upon the stripes of blue skies and sunshine out the slatted window. A circle of gulls were flying high and crowing just as the shadow of an airship blotted out the light like a passing cloud. His black tail came to rest over Noct’s shins, swaying lazily as the mithra hummed to himself. “No matter how long I’ve lived, it is always the young and fair that suffer the most tragedy.”

Noctis didn’t know what to say to that. He had a hard time knowing what to say about much of anything. Now, with the calamity that befell Insomnia, it was up to him to speak the most when he had barely enough thought to devote to breathing, much less rallying the people and communing with deities. The one person in the whole world he wanted to speak to about it was running from the Nifs and could only correspond with him via a dog and a diary.

Noct couldn’t even drum up the will to scream to the heavens of how unfair it was. How this was too  _ hard.  _ How in all the hells was he supposed to save Lucis and protect its people when he couldn’t even buy his own booze in most places?

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Noctis whispered, his throat tight as he watched the languid twists and flicks of Lehko’s tail. The black fur was glossy and clearly well-loved. Prompto’s image appeared in the back of his mind and stubbornly remained. He tried to banish his friend from playing part in his terror, but there was no helping it.

“I don’t know if you can, either,” Lehko sighed, and turned a tired smirk to him. “I don’t even know if you should. The responsibility has been foisted onto you without a thought or affection from the very forces responsible for your predicament. You are more innocent than you could imagine, and yet, the whole world is looking at you for help you don’t have the experience to navigate. You should be in love and sneaking out at all hours to be with your sweetheart.”

The Prince wasn’t sure if he was offended by Lehko’s words. He felt the knot in his gut twist until it pinched, only to ease at the sight of the knowing, weary look in the mithra’s eyes, and the suggestion of unflagging support in how he trusted his tail to rest on Noct’s legs. Even if he wanted to be offended, Noct couldn’t drum up the audacity. Something in seeing the doubt in the old cat’s eyes made the pressure on his shoulders soften. It made him feel less guilty, as well, at hearing his deepest wish spoken aloud as if he deserved to have such a wonderful thing as time to steal away with Prompto… if ever he mustered the courage.

He found himself mirroring Lehko’s lax smirk. “Maybe,” he breathed, inhaling the cool scent of briny air on the soft breeze. “But, until somebody else steps up, it’s what I’ve gotta do. I’m King of Lucis, aren’t I? And it’s not like I have any other relatives to take the crown instead,” he remarked with a sardonic lilt. 

Lehko gave him a firm pat on the knee, followed by a squeeze, and then got up with a long, arcing stretch and purr. “I can’t offer you a future, Noctis, but I can let you share my past for awhile. Mull your next move over in the shower. Mog and I will drum something up for lunch.”

Noctis began to rise out of bed after him, grimacing at the tacky sensation of cold sweat clinging to his clothes. A shower would be good.

The flat wasn’t large, but Noct still followed Lehko closely as the mithra pulled the heavy wooden door open and stepped out into the adjoining living room; a space made of grey stone and haphazardly strewn with carpets stolen from gods-knew-how many places and times. A fireplace and chimney made of old, red brick housed a low-burning flame. The day was already comfortably warm, making a proper blaze unnecessary. The orange-red embers were only hot enough to warm the belly of a cast iron pot which, just then, was empty. 

Random lamps and lights most  _ definitely  _ not meant to be there were hung from the rafters above. Some were broken mobiles of colored glass. Others were wind chimes in all manner of shapes and pitches, which were already lightly singing against the breeze coming through the wide-open windows overlooking the streets of Lower Jeuno. 

There was a television, which most certainly didn’t belong in the era Noct had woken in, as well as a couple of computers opposing one another on the same worn desk. Noct guessed Sie’s side was the one with the random carvings and doodles on its dull surface, as well as the occasional stain of old blood in the shape of a small (ladylike, she would say) handprint. How very sanitary.

_ “Kupo!”  _

Noctis fell back, flat on his ass, as a creature descended from the rafters to hover right in front of his face.

Not just a creature.

A fucking moogle.

_ An actual moogle. _

Noct’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. He remained on the floor, slack-jawed and stunned, as the moogle’s little webbed wings, deep purple, fluttered merrily. “What the-?!”

“Good afternoon, Kupo!” the moogle greeted, smiling at him with an illegally-adorable wiggle of its nose. “You must be Prince Noctis. Is that right, Kupo?”

Noctis nodded like a broken bobblehead, humming a stupid “uh huh,” at the moogle. By muscle memory alone did he reach for his phone and snap a candid photo for Prompto. Sure, it was just a dream, but he liked to think that Prompto could still somehow appreciate it. Sie and Lehko could drag things from Dynamis out to Eos, but he couldn’t. Not a visiting dreamer.

“Call me Mog, Kupo!” Mog said, voice like the chimes dangling up above. “Oh dear, did I frighten you, Kupo?”

“Noctis hasn’t seen a real moogle before, Mog,” Lehko chuckled. To one side was a kitchen just comfortable enough for two. The old cat began fossicking through an ice chest, bending deep enough into it that his tail flailed to try to prevent him from losing his footing and falling into it. “Would you mind showing him to the bathroom?”

“Of course, Kupo!” the moogle replied with an audible exclamation point. Noct numbly got to his feet, staring at Mog like an idiot as the little moogle turned and flew in the direction of a short hallway leading deeper into the apartment. 

The bathroom was on the left hand side at the end of the hall, with another door opposite it. The door was cracked enough for him to see the beginnings of Sie’s room. He would’ve inched closer to it, were it not for the soft squeak of the bathroom door being pushed open by the  _ actual fucking moogle.  _ “Here it is, Kupo!”

“Uh, thanks,” Noct replied a little too quickly. He should’ve known getting more involved with these people would mean edging into the realm of batshit insanity, and yet, he still felt blindsided by everything they threw at him. He caught himself staring at Mog instead of making any attempt at going into the bathroom.

Mog’s adorable, perpetually-smiling face only sparkled with greater charisma. “Shout if you need anything, Kupo!” he said with yet another audible exclamation mark. Noct almost thought he saw one flash above the creature’s head before it turned and fluttered back down the hall to join Lehko in the kitchen.

Despite himself, Noct felt the cloying allure of Sie’s bedroom call to him louder than the call of a warm bath to scrub off the tacky feeling of dried sweat on his still-moist clothes. Sure, it wasn’t likely to be there in the real, waking world, but it certainly felt real from where he was standing. 

Casting a furtive, guilty glance down the hall to see if Lehko or Mog were looking, Noct turned away from the bathroom and reached for Sie’s door. It was cracked open, which meant it wasn’t likely there was anything earth-shattering beyond it, right? That’s why he was being careful to test to see if the hinges squeaked when he pushed it open… right?

Thankfully, the door was quiet as it swung open. He was met by a scent similar to the inside of a music shop; earthy and rich, promising taut drums and strings, and the scent of well-loved wood and polish. It was a comfortable smell, and one that he always associated with the exotic allure of music he never knew how to produce. 

“Messy” was the word for it. Her twin-sized bed was beneath the window immediately opposite her bedroom door, and didn’t look like it had ever been made. Part of it was draped with antique furs belonging to animals he couldn’t identify, and piles of rich scarlet silk.

The sight of it sent a chill down his spine. Scarlet silk with a Phoenix-shaped dagger brazenly displayed on her bedside table, its crossguard still showing hints of flakes of old blood. A stain was on the surface of the table. Blood, no doubt.

A vanity bearing god-knew-how-many cosmetics was on the right side wall, leaning against a spit of wall dividing her closet with an en-suite bathroom. A bra was hanging from the doorknob. Classy.

On the opposite wall was a beautiful display of instruments. She hadn’t been lying about knowing the cello - one of those gorgeous, simplistic [silent cellos](https://usa.yamaha.com/files/svc110_540x540_396x396_3ac48b26caf6a513c06baaee25271005.jpg); hollow and bearing only its frames and strings, and looking like it was sharpened to a cruel edge, like a makeshift weapon. Hers was black and detailed with gold cranes - another thing that made his blood run cold. Scarlet silk and golden cranes, and a knife plunging toward his chest.

Noct turned away, swallowing bile. He told himself that it was just a nightmare, and that what he saw around her room was his mind’s attempt at filling in blanks left by the dream that haunted him. Ignis told him about that once, he thought. It was an article in one of those interesting articles on one of Ignis’s half-dozen news sites that he insisted on checking instead of just going with one or two, like a normal person. 

Yeah. That made sense.

He took stock of more of what he saw around the room. More delicate mobiles made of colored glass lazily swung and chimed as the afternoon breeze whispered through her open window. All cranes in flight.

He looked away, only to find her coffee table littered with little gold crane figurines, a soldering kit, and other tools meant for at-home glass blowing (she was telling the truth about that, too, which only made him more wary). 

Cautiously, Noct walked further into the room to look at more of Sie’s space. Her computer desk sported a tiny, top-of-the-line laptop and tablet. Jewelry was strewn around the electronics in all manner of styles and ages, including a beautiful set of hairpins that, when seated just in front of the ear, resembled the wings of a bird.

He blood ran colder. Further across the desk was another adornment looking fit to fall off. It looked like a sunburst, meant to be worn at the base of a ponytail, giving the illusion of the sun rising on her head.

Okay. Not cool.

“Get lost?” Lehko’s inquisitive voice came from the door.

Noct jumped out of his skin and spun, both shocked and embarrassed with himself for snooping. “Uh, the door was…”

Lehko’s easy, dreamy smile showed he wasn’t upset. Rather, he was trying not to laugh at the way Noctis’s cheeks turned about as red as Sie’s hair. “She would’ve dragged you in here, anyway,” he said with a good-natured chortle. “If you keep looking, you’ll convince yourself she’s been robbing museums.”

“Has she?” Noct cocked an eyebrow.

“Not according to the police report,” Lehko answered with an innocent turn of his eyes.

The levity punched a tiny laugh out of Noct’s lips. “I bet,” he said, turning his attention back toward the silent cello. He stood a pace or two away before leaning forward to give it a good look. “Did she sharpen the edge on this?” he asked.

“She did,” Lehko confirmed with a clever glimmer in his eye. “An idea handed down to her by a qiqirn we met in Nashmau. We were on a hunt for Odin, and were having a rather difficult time contending with the imps native to Caedarva Mire. Fierce little creatures that can cast black magic, see through any form of invisibility, and can either silence you, or render you incapable of using any of your more potent skills in combat. The qiqirn suggested ensuring we make our personal effects were all capable of killing one. And so, the axe-cello was born.”

The blank look Noct fixed him with only made him smile more. “More antiques from when I still had my milk teeth. I’m planning on, hopefully, guiding Ignis into a dream like this so he can see the food they cooked during this era.”

Noctis’s eyes softened. He smiled faintly. “Yeah, I bet he’d like that a lot. Kinda like…” He paused, his face falling into a contemplative, searching look as he stared into Lehko’s eyes. He pushed away thoughts of taking Prompto to look for photo-ops. “He really likes you, you know.”

“That’s good, given how much I like him,” Lehko replied with a small bow of his head.

Feeling a surge of protectiveness, Noctis folded his arms over his chest and postured like he wasn’t in Sie’s room without permission. “Iggy’s really picky, you know, and he never does anything unless he plans on going the whole way. He’s half the reason anything ever gets done with me or my friends. And he likes you… a lot.”

Instead of smirking and showing his bravado, Lehko cooled down and relaxed his hands at his side. He looked thoughtful, and frowned. “You’re going to give me the shotgun talk, aren’t you?”

Noct furrowed his brow. “I guess I am. You’re not…  _ human,  _ or anything, so you may not understand what it’s like for a human, much less a human like Iggy, but he’s not made of stone, and I don’t think he has a million years’ worth of boyfriends under his belt. If you think you can just waltz in and have your fun, then you’re gonna have to deal with  _ me,  _ got it?”

“Noctis,” Lehko’s tone was soft and unbeguiling. “If I wanted an easy conquest, I would’ve chosen you.”

Noctis twitched, eyes snapping wide. “ _ What?” _

Lehko didn’t smile, or smirk, or give any indication he was kidding. “I find Ignis’s company soothing. I am very selective about any lovers I take, much less more serious partners. My responsibilities are to Sie first, just like Ignis’s responsibilities are first to you. He and I have had this conversation, and both agree that we won’t stretch our time together. I am aware of my immortality-” Noctis visibly flinched, “-just as he is aware of his own mortality. Whatever happens between us is in his hands first.”

Noctis searched Lehko’s face, his gaze bouncing from bronze stripe, to bronze stripe, to the two pools of striking blue in his eyes, and the odd little spot of darker skin at the end of his nose. He looked at the tips of his ears, and then allowed his gaze to stray to the steady, contemplative waving of his black tail. “I just… I think Iggy should have somebody to make him happy. He works too hard and worries too much, and he should have somebody that can lighten the load, or at least be his sous chef.”

“He hasn’t thrown me out of the kitchen yet,” Lehko said with a wink. “Literally. You could practically perform surgery in his kitchen.”

Noctis’s grave face fractured with levity. “Actually, that happened, once. He accidentally ran over Gladio’s foot with the Regalia. It crushed the steel in the toe of his boot; nearly did permanent damage, but Iggy hauled him over to where we’d set up the kitchen and gave him stitches himself.”

“The fact that you qualified that with an, ‘accidentally’ makes me wonder if he’s ever aimed for his foot intentionally before,” Lehko snorted.

The Prince’s smile widened a little more. “He definitely threatened to a few times. That’s why he was so freaked out. He kept yelling that it was an accident and begged for forgiveness by cooking all of Gladio’s favorites for the next two weeks.”

“I thought Gladiolus’s favorites were cup noodles?”

Noctis didn’t reply, but the way he met Lehko’s eyes made the cat imagine Ignis making cup after cup of noodles, eyes dead and glassy while walking like a zombie to deliver it to Gladiolus; foot bound up and resting on a stick with tines shaped like a Y.

He made a mental note to visit Dynamis to watch that drama unfold.

With a final, breathy chuckle, Lehko nodded his head toward the hall bathroom. “Leave your clothes outside the door. I’ll wash them while you bathe.”

“But…” Noct stuttered, confusion in his eyes. “Isn’t this just a dream?”

Lehko was nudging him further into the bathroom. “Yes, but you still smell. And don’t flush while the shower’s running, or they’ll hear you screaming clear out into the street.”

Noctis gaped and stuttered, flushing pink as Lehko closed the door on him.

He felt overwhelmed by the sudden loneliness in the guest bathroom. It was small, but had enough space for a vanity, a toilet, and a small stand-up shower. It wasn’t decorated so much as the rest of the apartment, showing that the two seldom received guests long enough to make the space worth personalizing. 

He got the shower running well enough - there were only so many ways to turn a shower on, after all - and took a seat on the lid of the adjacent toilet. He needed to pee, but put the urge aside. It was just a dream, and he probably just needed to take a leak in real life. Instinct suggested that trying to give into the temptation would make for a very awkward, disgusting wake-up for Prompto, had fallen asleep right next to him.

Waiting for the sluggish pipes to spit out some hot water, Noct undressed and fished his phone out of his pocket. To his surprise, the dream in Dynamis was so vivid that it turned right on with the press of a button, and his lock screen was the same: Prompto standing at a distance, holding his thumb and forefinger apart in an attempt to make it look as if he was holding the Meteor in his fingers.

Noct, being Noct, had intentionally taken the photo cock-eyed so it was way off. Made him laugh every time he looked at it. 

It was just a dream, right?

Yeah. Lehko and Sie said it was just a dream. For them, it was real; they had gone to Dynamis physically, and so were fully integrated into it… or something crazy like that. It meant that unlocking his phone and hovering his finger over the little Prompto icon would indulge his imagination alone.

Despite himself, he hit the Call button, curled his toes, and listened to the steady ringing. He imagined that, somewhere within his own dream, Prompto was out taking pictures, or at the arcade, waiting for him to show up and apologize for being late. If Dynamis weren’t in the way, he would’ve fancied that for a dream. He would’ve fancied a memory of a little peace.

_ “Noct?” _ Prompto chirped, his voice a little hazy and sleepy.

His heart leapt into his throat. “Hey Prom,” he said back, smiling at how clear the little photographer’s voice was. Dreams probably didn’t need cell tower to connect between different fantasies. “Just… don’t say anything, okay? I wanna say something, and I’ll lose my nerve if I don’t get it all out.”

_ “Wh- oh, okay,” _ Prompto answered, and fell amicably quiet, just the way Noct hoped he would in such a dream.

“I know… I know I’m meant to marry Luna, and I love her. I really do, Prom. She means the world to me, alright? And I don’t think I could do anything without her help. I think she’d make a really great wife, and a really great queen. I can’t tell the future, but I know that, no matter what, she’s gonna make this world a better place. And, if we really do get married, I’m not gonna regret it. 

“But, Prom,” he continued, hearing Prompto about to open his mouth. “Prom… I, I just… If there was another universe where there were no Nifs, and Luna wasn’t Oracle, and I wasn’t…  _ me,  _ I’d just…” He paused, scrubbing his cheek with his hand. “This is just a dream, but it’s still hard. Damn,” he swore, and then glared at himself in the mirror. He still looked like him; half-naked on a toilet seat, phone to his ear, blush on his cheeks.

He ducked beneath the heavy, messy fringe over his eyes and stared at his naked toes. “I wish it could be you, Prom. I always have. In my dreams, I always wish it could be you, and I still do. I hate hiding it, and I want more than anything than to go back home, be a normal person, and just have it be  _ you.” _

He stopped, squeezing his eyes shut and drawing a deep breath. “That’s all I wanted to say, Prom. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but in my dreams, you do.”

_ “Buddy?”  _ Prompto’s voice was thin and trembling. 

He clenched his teeth and sucked in a breath. What kind of person was he to worry about being rejected in his own dream? “Yeah, Prom?”

_ “How are you calling me right now? You’re asleep right next to me.” _

 

* * *

 

 

An hour later, Lehko traveled down the hall again. When he poked his head into the bathroom, he found not a soul inside.

Frowning, Lehko looked back to Mog. “I guess it was time to rise and shine,” he sighed.

“Did he wake up, Kupo?” Mog asked, fluttering higher in the air to peek over Lehko’s shoulder.

“So it seems,” he nodded. “Damn.”

“Kupo?”

A smirk cracked on his mouth. “And here, I was hoping I would send him back to Eos to croon over my cooking to Ignis’s face.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Lehko and Sie were remarking on how their phones were starting to interact with the waking world, they never tested to see if it worked the same for their guests, too.
> 
> Whoops.


	17. Eat Your Heart (Lord Knows it's Hot Enough in Here for a Barbecue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you gotta accept help where it's offered.  
> Doesn't mean you don't have to bitch about it the entire way, though.

She was asleep and swimming in sweat when a point of blistering heat began to boil away the sweat shining on her body; the jolting of her muscles enough to send Falbub sliding along her soggy chest to fall to the sodden bedroll beneath her.

Sie awoke with a snap, and Phoenix awoke with a crow of annoyance. Neither could pinpoint what was happening in the first seconds of waking, until they discovered the “wasp” (Phoenix had screeched) making a show of leaving its mark on her hip. It would’ve been less confusing had she not been dreaming of unagi in Altissia. 

The wyvern asleep in the adjacent corridor twitched at the sound of her surprised yip. She bit her cheek to silence her noises as she squirmed in search of Falbub beneath her back. The horn tip had begun to burn hotter with every step she took closer to the Cloister of Flames - the formal name of Ifrit’s old throne - but had yet to deter her from sleeping with it like a stuffed doll.

Hiccups along the way aside, they’d (Meaning Sie, while Phoenix insisted he had worked just as hard)  managed to worm their collective way into the volcano in a little over a day. 

Granted, “Worm” better meant, “Staying low and running as fast as humanly possible with a host of native fauna spitting fire at Sie’s ass.” 

It had meant playing T-Ball with a hook sword and large, volcanic bats. 

It had meant carefully cutting into one of many roaming Bombs, getting them to the point of self-destruction, hooking into their sneering mouths, and launching them into the faces of scorpions the size of trucks. 

It had meant bribing goblins more than their worth. 

It had meant skulking past [legendary wyverns](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/e/e8/Wyvern.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20070602135843) by masking her scent with volcanic ash and salt.

And it meant dragons. Abstract, absurd, and [thank-fucking-fuck extinct dragons](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/b/bb/Dragon.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20070602134103) with backwards limbs like crickets, wretched, thorny flesh, and ferocious underbites meant for scooping the unwary adventurer up and swallowing them down; with power over fire and curses, like something undead, yet… not.

[Wyrms, she liked.](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/e/e9/Wyrm.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20070602135151) Wyrms were pretty.

Dragons were ugly. When she first ever saw a dragon, she punched Lehko and accused him of lying to her.

Her trek into Ifrit’s Cauldron landed her with several burns, scrapes, and one laceration on the inside of her arm she could’ve used to summon Odin with. Her hip still felt like it’d been shot with a .50 shell when a wasp the size of her midsection grazed her with its stinger. She had antidotes, and even the stolen power of Leviathan, but her muscle still insisted the pain was still there. 

Then, there was the worst hit she’d taken. It was difficult to traverse the Cauldron, even with the best of flame-retardant talismans. The mirages caused by heat vents, and the vague darkness within ancient magma tubes had set her up for a particularly bad incident regarding [a scorpion bigger than the Regalia,](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/d/d2/Scorpion.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20070506064202) and its razor-sharp, venomous mandibles taking a grisly chunk out of her thigh. Tyrannic Tunnok, it had been called.

She’d killed the thing with a liberal application of badass sword-wielding knee-slides beneath its belly, as well as a solid, innard-boiling burst of mid-level fire magic. She credited herself for that. However, she had to deduct points when she saw her leg gushing enough blood to drown a toddler. 

She hadn’t panicked, of course. Phoenix hadn’t been impressed, and so refused to make a fuss about it with her. Instead, she had been forced to take to an abandoned alcove to first cauterize the wound with Falbub’s assistance, and then mend it the rest of the way with restorative magic stolen from Leviathan. 

Even still, the bastard’s venom was pernicious, and she would have to cut the wound open again to reach the place where she felt a nasty, pus-ridden ulcer forming just beside her femur. The pressure from it was incredible, and she no doubt had a fever. Lucky for her that the Cauldron was already too hot for her to notice, and had given her a chance to catch a little sleep.

Waking up to Falbub’s burn alerted her to the increased severity of the infection. Even beneath the newly-mended skin, she could smell the decay. She could see the ugly pallor around the injury, and saw how her own sun-kissed skin had turned pale and mottled. It was lucky she had the reflexes left to vomit away from her sleeping bag instead of on it.

Nearby, she heard Vouivre snort and shift; the legendary wyvern too deep in his sleep to be roused by the sound of her poisoned retching.

A bullet behind her right ear would do the trick, were it not for how it would most definitely wake Vouivre. Death was as easily managed as a hiccup when it came to Sie and her secret hanger-on, but lying in wait for the wyvern to abandon her campsite and give her time to regenerate would waste valuable time. 

This was going to hurt, and she would have to stay silent.

Sie took Falbub into her hand, pressing a kiss to it when the temperature around its base cooled enough so as to not burn her hand. The closer she grew to the Cloister, the more she felt the thing come alive with hidden sentience. Hopefully, that sentience would help prevent her from suffering a permanent ulcer as she tried to get down deep to the core of the bastarding scorpion’s bite.

Jaw clenching, pain so white-hot and expansive as to make her toenails feel like they’d been set ablaze punctured the silk-thin wound. Foul-smelling blood laced with foul-smelling pus curdled and hissed around Falbub’s razor’s edge. Sie dabbed away the thick outpour with her pillow case, all while praying that the stench wouldn’t wake the wyvern.

Most would pass out at the pain, but pain was only significant if it foretold death. Perhaps this pain did, but it hardly mattered. She trusted Falbub to blister and burn the ulcer; to scorch away the venom and bacteria causing the bone-deep rot, before searing the above flesh shut as she slowly pulled it out of the open scar.

Eyes watering and nose running, Sie didn’t even allow herself a sniffle. Falbub burned the injury shut in a way that was ugly, and would cause pain with every step. It was the best she could do before she attempted to force Leviathan’s healing waters into the tender injury.

Naturally, it did fuck-all. The elemental wheel was sacrosanct. Leviathan’s magic did not mix with Ifrit’s. She would have to endure the wound until she could have Lehko look at it.

_ “So brave,”  _ she heard in the back of her head, while feeling the illusion of scarlet silk brushing against the tacky skin and sodden hair glued to her back. The silk would normally bathe her in warmth, but the heat of the Cauldron and the angry infection in her veins made his touch feel like the cool breeze of a Galdin Quay autumn.

She tore up her pillow case, doused it in what remained of her stores of iodine and hydrogen peroxide, tied a wet knot in the middle, and bound the fabric around her leg with the knot pressing firm against the wound. It hurt like trying to fuck Falbub, but the slow squeeze of the knot would give a slow-release of fluids to keep the fresh scar as clean as possible without flushing it out with water. Water was too precious to waste on wounds.

_ “Do you think he’ll see?”  _ the voice continued. She felt manicured fingers follow the path of her carotid from jaw to shoulder.  _ “I wonder if he can sense us. Imagine the protective froth it would bring him to to see his beloved so battered and wounded.” _

“Not today,” Sie sighed, rubbing her temple. The infection made her head pound, and made the act of packing up her wet, makeshift camp all the more agonizing. She wouldn’t be getting any sleep, now.

If she was going to make it to the Cloister, Vouivre was going to have to go. 

Her initial plan had been to try and put the beast to sleep, were it not for how her primary sleep spells were either heavily light-based, or based upon Diabolos’s blessing. Two viable options, were it not for how wyverns were stubbornly resistant to light magic, and it was tricky putting a denizen of the Dreamworld using magic that was already holding the memories of its creatures fast. 

Worse still; she’d shed too much blood to safely siphon magic from damned near anything. 

_ “I could…” _

_ No,  _ Sie thought stubbornly. 

_ “Not even if I promise to behave?”  _ he sing-songed in her ear.

_ This isn’t your path to walk,  _ she insisted right back, the muscles in her jaw clenching.

_ “We share feet, Shanriri,”  _ he retorted. His hallucination took form just in front of her; scarlet robes rippling in the constant breath of the Cauldron. The gilded cranes and peacocks on them looked like they were flying. He spun his scarlet parasol, making the image of the Phoenix seem to revolve around the gold cap, as if revolving around the sun.

The long, thin blade hanging loosely across his lower back - strung about the handle with gold bells - looked so very enticing. She knew the thing to be sharp enough to drop a behemoth like a chickatrice, and would do so in a much quicker, more efficient way than her new khopesh might. She didn’t trust herself to swing it.

His painted lips curved into an easy smirk; copper eyes flashing seductively as his hallucination approached. He flicked away the same garnet hair stuck to her face that mirrored the color of his own hair.  _ “I could carry us there. You know it,”  _ he offered, tongue like honey as the bells on his sword tinkled.

She glared at him.  _ He’s mine. _

His smile broadened.  _ “I’m only matchmaking, my love. All you have to do is reach back.” _

_ That’s as good as reaching for you,  _ she argued stiffly. She broke from the visions of his touches in order to loosely dress herself. The lappas were tight on her thighs, but the knotted fabric binding the wound on her leg would need to be held firm if she was ever going to make the walk the rest of the way.

He appeared in front of her again, playing at helping her dress. Making it look as if he was being helpful.

To an outside eye, she was numbly tying her laces with her own hands.

He sighed and stepped back. With his manicured, polished, painted hand - all covered in elaborate gold jewelry - he covered his heart.  _ “On my honor, I will only help us the rest of the way.” _

_ You and I both know how much your honor is worth,  _ she jeered petulantly, tying the last of the laces of her weskit tight enough to make them both wince.  _ About as much as it was when you convinced me to swallow you in the first place. _

_ “Must we cling to old grudges? I thought you were past this,”  _ he pouted, spinning his parasol all the more.  _ “Did your time in timeout teach you nothing about letting things go?” _

_ You always ask me personal questions you already know the answers to,  _ she snapped back with a poisonous glare. She was in no mood to play with him, even if he really was trying to help. She knew it to be so. One of the few advantages she had over him was his inability to lie to her. 

When he fixed her with that damned, stupid, convincing stare made of kittenish brilliance and affection overworked like bread dough, he yanked a heavy sigh from her. She was still trembling from fever, and her leg and hip hurt enough to make her want to throttle the next cute thing she set her eyes on. Meaning that Prompto had best be absent when she returned to Eos.

He began to smile impishly as she searched the face of her hallucination. Her mood was as foul as the smell of her leg, but her shoulders rounded.  _ The sword only. _

_ “I knew you’d see things my way,”  _ he crooned, and watched with immense satisfaction as Sie blindly reached behind and to her right side. In her bones, she felt his presence creep along to take control and guide her fingers to wrap around the handle of a bell-strung blade that wasn’t truly there. Not until the two of them worked to remove it from its scarlet sheath.

It was long for her; unsuited to a small frame like hers, yet weighed as much as a sweet nothing, and jingled with music that made her ears tingle. Phoenix’s sword had always behaved more like a musical instrument than a weapon capable of leveling buildings.

Sie went to step out into the next corridor, but staggered abruptly. Her eyes flew wide as her hanger-on’s presence slithered south and into her wounded leg. He wiggled her toes and flexed the injured muscles.

Sie flinched, bracing for agony, only to find none. There was a dull throb beneath the knotted cloth, but the pain felt as muffled as if she’d been accosted by half a dozen syringes full of morphine.  _ I said the sword only, dammit!  _ she bellowed, stopping herself from screaming it aloud and waking Vouivre.

_ “How are you supposed to take the proper posture with a crippled leg?”  _ he purred smartly, and she could see him in her periphery with bedroom eyes and a smile that was all teeth. He curled her toes again.  _ “Just relax, my love. The Infernian won’t spite you for actually coopering with me. You hardly need to fight to win his affections.” _

_ Not the point, you bastar- _

The back of her mind stung bitterly. The hallucination leered at her.  _ “Language, Shanriri, or I might remind you of your birth name.” _

She ground her teeth until her head hurt just as much as when he punished her. Her fingers gripped the handle of his sword hard enough for the gold-emblazoned leather to moan in protest. The trembling of her hand made the bells chime with a gentleness that belied her impotent anger.  _ I don’t want to remember. _

_ “Mind your manners, then. Now, shall we carry on? You only have a few hours before that fever of yours does you in. Once that happens, you wouldn’t want me to decide to stretch our legs, would you?”  _ he needled. The playful light in his eyes had turned into something dark and dangerous. Sie may have regarded him as a father figure, but even a devil could adopt a stray.

Her mind fell quiet, and the slight bow of her head was all he needed to see and feel to be satisfied. An invisible nudge to her nerves encouraged her to take a step in the direction of Vouivre; the great wyvern, who slumbered in the middle of the path to the heart of the volcano. 

Warmth crept down her arm. Her control over it was no longer her own, and neither was her control over her other leg. She resigned herself to it, knowing full well she was in no state to focus on helping counterbalance him.

Numbly, he brought them forward in a rush that punched her in the gut from its g-forces. His blade - rose-gold and edged with scarlet - found the socket of the wyvern’s eye. Before Vouivre could even stir, the smoldering, opulent blade was neatly lodged in its brain.  _That was embarrassingly easy._

_ “See what happens when you trust me?”  _ Phoenix withdrew his sword from the dead wyvern’s skull, cleaning the blade with both a sharp flick and smooth stroke of either side over the soft leather of the beast’s wing. Then, with a neat little flick, he sheathed the blade for them in a scabbard that swallowed it up from sight, with naught but the sneaky jingle of those bells to herald its disappearance.

Sie stood over Vouivre’s corpse with a tired sigh; eyes drooping, and limned heavily with sickly, heavy bags. Were it not for Phoenix’s continued control over her legs, she might have collapsed against the wyvern’s corpse in search of something soft to die against.

_ “There’s always that option,”  _ said the hallucination, who walked ahead of her while making her feet trail behind. The jewels and little ornaments hanging from the sunburst on the back of his head sparkled with light cast from open veins of magma. His scarlet robes fluttered about his ankles, revealing soft, silk slippers that never seemed willing to dirty themselves with the ash and soot of the Cauldron.

_ I don’t want to die yet,  _ she murmured to him. Even her inner voice sounded tired.

_ “So say many who find themselves upon that precipice.” _

_ Rather like Ifrit?  _ she quipped dryly. Her eyes shut for a beat. Imagining Ifrit being brought low by the Pantheon made her feel more ill than the sepsis did.

_ “Exactly so,”  _ he returned, his saunter turning lazy as he coaxed her legs to carry her close enough to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Tall as he was, the hallucination could easily drape his arm over her shoulders as he steered her along. 

A few more minutes later, and the edges of her vision were turning fuzzy. He spared her the pain her body insisted she was in, but the exhaustion couldn’t be avoided without asking for his help even more. The best she would allow was in slumping against his hallucination. His “vision,” he would call it.

To an outside viewer, she was simply walking upright, straight-backed, and with far too much poise for the red stain forming on her lappas.

Phoenix had to intervene several more times on their way to the Cloister. Bombs continued to flood the corridors leading inward, and Sie nearly had a panic attack at the sight of another massive scorpion blocking the way.

_ “Hush, now,”  _ Phoenix had whispered to her when she saw it. His sword was still in her hand, and he had crept his guidance to flood her remaining extremities. She was too tired to stop him. It felt like a fever-dream, feeling her body being piloted by him. Watching her body make ruthless work of everything in her path without so much as a wheeze. 

When at last they reached the heart of the volcano, she was barely conscious. It was only by the grace of her previous expeditions to the Cauldron that she even knew which way they should go. Indeed, the heart of the volcano was one great crater whose walls were lined with narrow pathways that promised death with the slightest stumbles.

She had placed totems to point the way, carved out of stone and placed at the lips of ledges that stopped short over ledges below them that carried onward. She wondered if it was the same path Ifrit followed eons ago in pursuit of the gates of the Underworld.

She wouldn’t have managed the jump down without Phoenix, and her half-conscious thanks did nothing to help his bloated ego.

But, with that impact from jumping from ledge to ledge, her simmering brain gave a final rattle. Her tenuous hold on consciousness slipped, and darkness won out.

 

* * *

 

 

When next she woke, the overwhelming heat of the Cauldron was little more than a Lestallum-like afternoon. The air, while still hot, no longer hurt to breathe. She was curled up on soft sand and ash, with the pain that once wracked her having died away.

As always, she awoke feeling just as well as after a peaceful sleep. She found herself wreathed in the ash of a cremated corpse, and knew she was where her body had given out, and where Phoenix had finally relinquished his hold over her bones and sinew. His influence was no longer overbearing, and he instead remained quietly roosted in the back of her mind and body.

With a deep yawn, Sie sat up and blinked.

She smiled. The cavern she was in was made of familiar limestone, and, when she turned about, she was met with a [protocrystal that shone with red light](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/ffxi/images/a/aa/CloisterofFlame-pic.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20060825212448), and hovered of its own accord. The thing was near the same size was the infamous Crystal that had so chosen Noctis to leech from.

On steady, rested legs, Sie got to her feet and closed the gap between herself and the crystal. She reached into a bag on her hip, removing a flame-kissed tuning fork. 

She tapped the crystal with the fork. It rang out with a resonance that made her vision wobble, and her ears ring with a lyrical note almost as soothing as one of Lehko’s lullabies. It was then that she felt herself wreathed in fire, and a familiar little spark burst forth from her left hand to reach out and play with the oncoming blaze.

In time past, the fire might incinerate the unworthy; those that had not earned the Tuning Fork of Fire, and therefore were denied entry to the Infernian’s inner sanctum.

When her feet touched down on black lava rock instead of loose sand, a blooming of joy spread from her breast to her cheeks. The world around her had turned into a great universe of flames bearing a rough hewn stairway of lava stone suspended in nothingness, and orbited by blazing rock.

Fearlessly, Sie followed the pathway upward. Gouts of hot wind pushed her hair to and fro; tickling her cheeks in a way that, for her alone, made her feel welcome.

At the crest of the pathway was a wide, earthen platform boasting an immense, broken rock. Within it was a protocrystal even larger than the one that had drawn her in, with thick motes of flame spinning around it like a protective ward.

Sie’s breath hitched. In the center of the platform was the Infernian’s divine throne encrusted with a fine layer of ash, accumulated from too many years of disuse.

She approached it, fighting back nostalgic tears. She had come expecting the place to be utterly devoid of the Infernian’s presence. It was, after all, the former site of many duels between enterprising adventurers seeking tokens of favor from him. 

The throne was massive. At his natural height, Ifrit stood at over 40’ tall, and his throne reflected it. Sie could’ve invited Noctis and his companions to share the seat, and even Gladiolus’s bulk wouldn’t be enough to make for a tight fit. Not that she took Ifrit for having a fat ass, of course.

Phoenix watched in quiet interest as Sie approached the throne and used a few little handholds to hoist herself up. It was still warm from where Ifrit had spent countless millennia poised to pass judgment. It seemed a perfect place for her to organize and display the gifts given to her by the reverent tonberries.

From her things, she produced Falbub, Ifrit’s khopesh, the gems and gold nuggets meant to adorn the horn tip, and the sword belt. The belt took some doing to take off. Being able to magically move to fit around her hips, it didn’t seem pleased with being taken off.

All but Falbub and the raw materials did she set aside. Kneeling with her legs partly spread, Sie set the bag of gold and jewels next to the horn. Then, with a soft tug of magic taken straight from her soul, the last breath of Ifrit’s flame sprung forth from her veins and wrapped around her wrist like a friendly serpent.

Sie shut her eyes and framed her hands in the pose for synthesis. She had no fire crystal, but the Infernian’s spark drew upon the power of the great protocrystal. Wielding the power of the Infernian’s own hearth, Sie felt the intense, hot magic form a cyclone before her; gathering up Falbub and the materials and warping to and fro as an image took shape in her mind.

She saw the long, sharp horn in her mind’s eye, and so, too, did she see the materials. Blindly, she witnessed the gold nuggets glowing white-hot, melting into hovering teardrops, and bathing the horn in liquid metal that sealed the fine grooves and edges fast, sharpened its edges, and formed a caged, sure handle studded with jewels like those that studded the Infernian’s own blade… wherever it had fallen.

A thunderous burst of sound and power nearly knocked Sie clean from the throne. When her eyes flew open, she saw the beautiful weapon still floating in the air in line with her chest. 

As well as a ring. Gold, and bearing a radiant, crimson gem in its center. A gem that gleamed with the power of the Infernian’s protocrystal.

It took her breath away; Sie’s eyes remaining wide and threatening to shrivel in the dry heat. “Holy shit…” she whispered, and timidly reached out to pluck Falbub and the ring from the air.

Falbub came easily to her right hand, but the ring had a mind of its own. Before she could snatch it up, Ifrit’s ring shot forth and seated itself on her left ring finger and, growing warm and malleable, tightened until there was no hope in removing it without engine grease and prayer.

Sie held her hand in the air, watching the gold band shimmer, and the shard of the protocrystal hum and simmer. She could hear the whispers in her left ear; a hot voice just shy of caressing her ear. She could feel an invisible hand in hers. Could feel in the root of her horn and corner of her soul that something new had just nestled into place.

Smiling, Sie’s eyes gleamed with the cruel wit of Phoenix. “And so, Draconian…  _ eat your heart.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of the Chocobros + Trash Jesus in the next installment. Sie and Phoenix couldn't wait to hunt down our sweet, sexy Infernian.
> 
> It's gonna make the canon Ifrit fight super uncomfortable, if you ask me.


End file.
